is no heart at all. Where was I when my world came to fall? In my youth it was nothing to cry for but in these reminders of my emptiness I weep. Blankly I make my way through all of these lonely crowded places, no questions asked with no story to tell. All is meant well, but perhaps our good intentions destroy us in the very end. I've got nothing to offer except for myself and nothing to give but obedience. Where is father time taking me, I can't help but beg "Are we there yet?" Because even with no mind to the destination, I wait and pray for the journey to end.
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