I have felt the many whispers of your caustic fate;   Crying, laughing at the nagging coincidental way.      I wish I would hold a notion true   I wish I could push emotion through   I felt my hand that picked the fruit impure   Taste now so bland, searching for a cure.      I have known this for so long   And now I know; now I’m longing   For the newborn’s breath   Within my death.      God, give me my strength that I could never find.