Within my heart there is this woe,

Though why it's there I do not know.

It fills my soul with weary grief,

O what – within – can bring relief?

Within me here there is this hole

That pierces down into my soul.

My tears I pour from their sad cup

Yet find I cannot fill it up.

Within my eye there is this tear

I long to shed for what is dear

To me – I try and cannot make

It fall and gently, sweetly break.

Within my mind there is this crack

All seamed with grief and very black,

So that, though thoughts may wondrous seem

I wake to find each one a dream.

Within my mouth there is this sigh,

A mourning breath for things that die

And pass away to ne'er return;

For things once 'live that now do burn.

Within my past there is this flame,

A twisting fire of grief and shame,

Regret that sears my memories

And fills my past with agonies.

Within my hope there is this void -

A fear of things that once destroyed

May never, ever be found again -

Makes future bleak and dark with pain.

Within myself this question stands -

Who will I be? - the shifting sands

Of who I am denote the thought

And all I see is what I'm not.

Within my hand there is this black

Blank emptiness of all I lack.

Gazing into what is not there

I realize – Life is not fair.

Within my life I look to see

And hope to find what I should be.

What should I be? - I do not know

And find my heart is filled with woe.