I, like a tired weary pilgrim,
Trudge this earth, these stony paths so grim.
Seeking, with ponderous wandering steps,
Salvation from a marauding death.
I, like a penitent prodigal son,
Cling to the fading final notes of my long lost song
Hoping that someday, somewhere within this earthly dome,
I may find the beaten path that will lead home.
I seek a hidden ledge on which to leave my heartfelt plea;
Some place where my bloodied sacrifice I can leave.
Where my guilt ridden heart can find peace and be held
Close to my father, speaking words only he must hear.
All I can offer are my bleeding blistered feet;
These trembling lisping lips ravaged by a dusty mist,
Cracked by the raging vengeance of the northern wind
And led astray by the quivering of a deluded mind.
I, like a weary tired son,
Trudge this earth, these winding paths so long.
Seeking, with weary wandering steps,
Forgiveness for an undying guilt.