The deserted hopes, dead and buried.
The ever crawling darkness, lingering,
To find a place in something ‘surrendered’,
Wheat’s the meaning of it all, I wonder.
Each time I let go the vulnerability kicks in
More room for sin, than I can imagine!
What’s the meaning of love and hurt?
Don’t let it bud, kick it to the curb!
Wandering abandoned from one place to another,
Unsure of how long I can run away further.
“Bring me back to life!” the soul cries out,
But it’s like an unquenchable thirst in the drought.
Will I ever find a place call ‘home’?
Will I ever find a hope to lean on?
Will that ray of light shine through darkness someday?
“Shun it, mute it, keep that thought at bay!”