It’s no wonder I’ve felt so tired I’ve witnessed the careless all running past me While I’ve been told to ignore my desires And grow numb with understanding
I walk through theses woods I carry this deadwood I am determined to see this through Driven only by the guilt and the shame of giving up I must complete what I set out to do - For you
It stayed on a shelf made of my arms They had grown strong from giving support I knew that my arms could hold out forever It was my mind that’d grow tired And in time would let go
It’s been so long since I have questioned What it is that I really want Instead I follow your directions As you lead me on
I can’t use it to build my home It will not fulfill my desires Some wood can be used to help build a life This wood will be used for building a fire
Why carry this deadwood with me… …when were I’m going there will be living trees
Now close enough to carry it all to the end But throwing it all to the ground instead
This bundle of deadwood The pieces they fall Corners indent the soil and accumulate on one another Tumble down and pile up
It awkwardly spills like myself at a time Like the time it had killed Like every moment after it was collected and held
I’d give up all that I started To pursue all that I wanted I may arrive empty handed But at least I will arrive