A Burdened Soul’s Song

Oh, weary the burden that presses so deep,

A weight upon spirit, too heavy to keep.

Am I the keeper, the guardian, the guide?

Or lost in the struggle ‘twixt folly and pride?

No hands lend their aid, no voices implore,

Yet still do I labour, and still I endure.

 

But what if I faltered? If loosed from my hold,

Would mercy be cruel, would freedom be cold?

Must striving alone be the tale I have told,

A name on the stone where the echoes grow old?

Ah! Let it be written, in sorrow or pride,

“He strove”…. and no more, ere the shadows abide.