“Foolish boy!” cries the voice in my head.
“You cannot return life to the dead.”
Nevertheless, I give my all.
Blood, sweat, and tears from my head do fall.
Screaming, scraping, searching, waiting.
Hoping, praying, falling, fading.
Seeking a way out of this maze,
Forever wandering in this haze,
Crying, tearing, staring, burning.
Losing, wearing, daring, turning.
No release from this I find,
No respite here to clear my mind.
Wrapped in a crippling shroud of defeat,
Colorless eyes in a crowded street,
Trembling hands and wandering feet,
Leave me breathless under a cold bed sheet.
No more strength lives in these bones,
As my Father comes and carries me home.