I felt the waves weather me down,
from the peaks of purgatory
deep into the ground
is this hell, my lord i am sorry
you shook your head
saying i had a multitude of chances
and reminded me of all the times I said ‘i would take my chances’
all that i had imagined to be gold, just lead
how can i ever depart from this labyrinth
i do not need to explain morose doom
what happened to your promised boundless mercy
what do my blood and tears lack
perhaps i ask for too much
grant me, if not salvation, then repose
Little Borrowers 