If i find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here
If the felsh that i fight is at best only light and momentary,
then ofcourse I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared
Speak to me in the light of the dawn
Mercy comes with the morning
I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me
Am i lost or just found? On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?
Cos my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
An avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become