My soul is weeping
For what used to be me
For what's left of me
For nothing that's going to be.
I have lost my chance at life
And I just know deep within
That the longer I live on
The more miserable I will be.
Perhaps I have known from the start
That the space I occupy in this-
Seemingly heaven-forsaken-world
Is meant for someone greater than I.
And so I mourn for myself-
For what I could have become;
For the death of the life in me;
For the butchered spirits
And will
And passion
And desire
And hope
To live.