Sunday, April 3, 2011

Stealing Away

You fault me for this
But is the fault really mine?
Searching me with vagabond eyes
You've contributed to my demise. 

I struggle to wake;
In morning light I'm a fake.
I cannot help that I'm sick
You seem to think that this is a trick. 

It's not, oh, it's not
I can promise you right now
I never chose to be like this.
Waiting, waiting for death's cold kiss.

I hold life so dear;
It's hard when death feels near.
I cling to the promises You've made
I hope that You shine bright while I fade.

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