The wind is cold and so is my heart, failing to see beyond this wretched mind
I wish to go on but not on this path, that has been soiled by my mistakes of the past.
Singing I pray or so I think, to be freed from my body and dumb needs.
I don’t want to feel, be it physically or emotionally,
The things that corrupt and taint.
I do not wish to be sick, the way it is described by William Blake.
I want joy and laughter and love, not the filthy things people mistake for such.
Give me hope, erase my mind, I don’t want to think of these things of the past.
Let me grieve and then forget but if I cannot, then let me be strong
So I can be wise and not fall back, on that treacheruous path that I want to leave behind.
Make me fly or run or swim, to that white tree filled with dreams.
Let me hold on to the firm handle, to walk, run, fly or swim and embrace your mantle.
I want to sing, not of sadness and pain. No, I want to sing of creation without despair.
See me try, I know now why.
This burden is mine and the day may come at last,
When I can be victorious over my tortured past.