It’s no wonder I’ve felt so tired    I’ve witnessed the careless all running past me    While I’ve been told to ignore my desires    And grow numb with understanding       I walk through theses woods    I carry this deadwood    I am determined to see this through    Driven only by the guilt and the shame of giving up    I must complete what I set out to do - For you       It stayed on a shelf made of my arms    They had grown strong from giving support    I knew that my arms could hold out forever    It was my mind that’d grow tired    And in time would let go       It’s been so long since I have questioned    What it is that I really want    Instead I follow your directions    As you lead me on       I can’t use it to build my home    It will not fulfill my desires    Some wood can be used to help build a life    This wood will be used for building a fire       Why carry this deadwood with me…    …when were I’m going there will be living trees       Now close enough to carry it all to the end    But throwing it all to the ground instead       This bundle of deadwood    The pieces they fall    Corners indent the soil and accumulate on one another    Tumble down and pile up       It awkwardly spills like myself at a time    Like the time it had killed    Like every moment after it was collected and held       I’d give up all that I started    To pursue all that I wanted    I may arrive empty handed    But at least I will arrive