God, what is the point of trying?
When everything about life breaks my heart
And my soul feels empty and alone,
Where are you?
Why do I feel this way?
What will it take to be at peace in the land of the living?
Am I destined to wander in the wasteland,
Of parched earth without water?
Where is healing when wounds seem to fester
And all about me is restless and distressed?
I’ve chosen you, but have I really?
Who can save me from myself?
Only you, but will you?
Where are you?
Without answers
David S. Wisener 