To think I am what I am not, That I’m free-will, not some robot Which walks around this spinning globe Of tractor beams and digging probes, Mindlessly loss within the race Which fails to pass a valid case On why I live, on why I die, And why they still just can’t say why I’m here. Such minds we have, these great I ams Who say they’re gods or Supermen, But fail to fill this holy heart With something more than just a part Of filth and junk and empty things Which leaves behind the pains and stings Of broken hearts and endless lies, And all the sad attempted tries At life. “Great life!” they say, half-life they bring, And still I seek to find a thing That takes me to a place of peace And all the things that can release This life of hurt, of pain, of woe And all mistakes which failed to sow The joy I seek, the joy of peace, The hope of love, that pain will cease In me. So now I lie in broken shame And all the waste upon my name, Broken, bruised, and still confused On why, in life, this Death intrudes To steal a gift we have just once, Stupid, it seems, to this sad dunce To live in death and all the things Which fail, in time, to ever bring Me life. So here I cry to anyone Who just might help me find someone To take me now, to mend this heart Which fell from me, so ripped apart. To take the shreds of scorn and shame Which fixes to my shriveled frame And mend the pieces once again So that this soul may then again Have life. But what is done when death takes hold And all my strength can’t break this mold Of pain and hurt and tragedy That fails to every remedy Which someone gives me, passing by, While telling me to simply try It out, to take away the pains And all of my own failing gains Of life? So then I turn toward the sky And scream to God, “Oh why, oh why!?” Wondering then, if He’s still there Then why can’t He just give a care For me, for me, for just my life And take away this painful strife Which fixes to a life like mine While death itself just takes its time To kill. But then this God I’m screaming to Comes down and slowly points to You; A beaten man upon a cross Who gave His life so that His loss Would be my gain of life once more As all His blood begins to pour Out down onto this filthy heart Which still cannot deserve a part Of You. This world failed me miserably But You, my God, completed me.