When will this life begin or end
And what does God really intend?
I cannot say to speak nor tell
If this path be of heaven or hell.
I find it hard, or so it seems
To walk that slim, unsteady beam,
Across the fires of rage and sorrow
I would attempt on love once borrowed.
But in my mind, those thoughts did lack
Memory of hope, could not bring back,
And so I stumbled unto this place
A nothingness of time nor space.
And here I stand in shadowed fear
Reflected in a thousand mirrors,
Within my mind they cast each scene
Nightmares from a living dream.
And now I wait with folded hands
Seeking light to promised lands,
Where hate will cower to its bed
And love arise from hearts undead.
