The creative curse

There is a kind of music pulsing in the heart of every human.
A creative energy quietly whispering to the mind of man.
If you listen very closely, as quiet as you can
You can coax it onto paper or weave it into a melody.

My God he calleth in the glen.
His voice is soft
He calls again
I want to obey
But I can barely hear a whisper
Though I know he loves me,
loves me still.

Surreal paths over a dark void
many roads, many journeys
a strange light that comforts
and leads me on, through the darkness.

Lord are you there?
Can you hear my aching heartbeat?
Can you feel these tears of waiting
I am waiting, I am waiting
My soul is longing for that other place
The place where I can be with you.

When I get there
The tears you wipe away
are tears of joy
of pain answered.

I can't hear you Lord
I can't see you

I know you're there.
Reach out to me
Touch me.

Where is the hand of God?
Where is the horn that was blowing?
The Sons of Gondor are spent
The kingdom lies in ruin.

My ears cannot hear you
My eyes cannot see you
where are you oh Lord?
Are you inside of me?

Where have you gone?
Why did you leave us?

We're just dancing in the dust
your shadow touched

How long now?
How long now?

These desires are burning,
burning out forever into space
searching, searching, searching for a place, for a home
the Father's house to call my own


Suicide knocks gently at the edges of my mind


would not the eternal question be answered?


Alas 'tis my lot to live


and struggle through the darkness


To the light I know


but have never seen in all its glory.


I know my feet are on the right path


But God that's all I know


or is it?



I'm following the way

but I'm a blind man

Looking this way and that

for signposts others see


Why can't I see?
Why can't I see?

open my eyes
open my eyes
open my eyes