Can you see the wick? Of my burnt-out soul.
Like an overused candle,the wax is all gone.
Can you see the wick?
My sooted, calloused heart,
has no more coal to keep its warmth.
Like a cooled-off ember,
my spirit’s light no longer shows.
Can you see the rising smoke? From my bitter, anguished cries.
Which rise like billows of ash, to meet your gazing sight.
Can you see the smoke?
My fractured, feeble mind,
lacks all truth to discern what’s right.
Like a covered lantern,
my thoughts are drowned out by lies.
Oh, when will you give me, the wax, oil and coal, to reignite my stifled soul?
I didn’t prepare for this journey. I didn’t count the cost.
Nor did I consider that my whole world would soon turn to dark.
Does not the smoke burn your eyes?
Or my faded ember make you shiver?
How can I praise you if all that’s left of me, is no more than a pillar?
Or how can I help the lost find their path, when my light itself, I no longer have?
Rekindle my flame, so that I may bring you glory and honor.
For your names sake, don’t let my spirit falter.