You rich and gleaming precious beans
So sleek and flawless and fine
To bar you from me would be mean
To ban you would be a cruel crime
My blessing is a blessing
But with it comes a curse
For I feel the world intensely
But can’t give the feeling birth.
I’m tired of life,
with it’s twists and turns.
I’m tired of feelings,
that ache and burn.
There on a road is a man,
Chasing a dying dream.
He lives as well as he can,
But things are not what they seem.
A question begs and haunts my prayer.
It comes with anger and despair,
it simply asks 'Lord, are you there? '