I weary of life, the burden of searching
Screeching owl o’erhead he doth understand
Pit of bedeviled…forever lurching
I claw at raw earth with most futile hands
There’s no escaping that what confronts me
Darker and darker my hopes flicker dim
If light on vista only I could see
My prayers unanswered, no assist from him
A sweet saffron rose arises in hole
Its fragrance beguiling, beauty sublime
In reaching to touch thorn pierces my soul
I have been sentenced, I know not my crime
Pain and suffering, worry and sorrow
Strong rope of hope perchance I could borrow
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