life was silent this morning,
distant and confused;
I am tired of the pain,
I am tired of the suffering;
yet still You raise me up,
even now You carry me forward;
without You there is nothing;
the dreams grow,
the time almost here,
the moment rushes forward,
payment past due,
the taste becomes bitter
inside this dry and dying
cauldron;
I am tired of the pain,
I am tired of the suffering;
yet still You raise me up,
even now You carry me forward;
without You there is nothing.
.
.
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