I'm sitting here and thinking,
Of what someday I'll be.
And I have to wonder,
If this was ment for me.
My life it seems is endless,
To drag on day to day.
But I have to stop and wonder,
Will it always be this way?
I streatch and then I look around,
and emptyness I see.
I have to wonder if this was the way,
Things were ment to be.
I look about as I wonder,
If I'm doing this right.
Before I try to lift the stone,
while straining with all my might.
I move on through the timeless,
Rivers of the soul.
And as once more I wonder,
I take another spoon from the bowl.
Through all my hardest trials,
And my unseemly fears.
I can only hope and pray,
That I will be held dear.
But if that isn't ment,
To be.
Then what will ever,
Come of me?
