Waiting for the sun to rise/ while life passes before my eyes/ but my feet are still stuck beside/ the ashes of my decaying life./ Will you ever show your face?/ will you grace me in this
unpleasant place/ with your calming and collecting rays/ of warmth, pure and unstained?/ And will I ever get my feet undone/ from the pile of waste that’s building up,/ threatening to overcome/
and take me to that place/ from which you’ll never show your face./ So I try moving towards your warmth,/ towards your light,/ towards your love/ but I’m tugging what can’t budge/ and I fear I’ll never win/ this battle for sunlight’s begin./ I’ll just keep wading through this heap/waiting for the sun to keep/ Its promised gift of light/ while life passes me by.