I look upon the moon so far away
pale and white, a mocking sight
a spiteful hint of the coming day.
I look around the pit so deep
a dirty mire that makes me tire
of climbing up these walls so steep.
How came I to this dark chasm?
Why do I try to rise up and fly?
Why do I feel despair's cruel spasm?
How can I fall on my knee
and pray until the light of day
and yet there's nothing from Thee?
He's not abandoned me I know
His love eternal, his grace eternal
and yet I feel the biting cold of snow.
Is it life that we must spend
our time pushing up and waging
against despair of a lonely end?
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