The water that cools my heart,
The fire that burns in me,
Oh why can I not see
For thou my life is marked?
For though in the rhythms of life
The schisms will cause strife,
But I cannot continue without a we,
So please, I beg, are thou still there for me?
I struggle and wonder, I strive and fight,
But I lose and lose- there is no hope.
To not have been born, -that would be better.
I would not be whored by this and that and that and this
There is nothing badder
Than to walk the earth
Knowing, I am as good as dead.
Than to see thou in the eye,
Knowing, I am as bad as death.
But thou have not abandoned me, have not cut me off,
Unto the olive tree I am grafted,
And all the others have laugheded.
"She? That rotten branch? She belongs in the loft."
Absolutely Nothing. Nothing I have done to be saved.
To you I deserved nothing but to be enslaved,
But thou have choiced to be lowered,
Endured being called “coward”
So you may shower
Me in your love.
This is love.