Dripping down, I feel my bones
Melting in the blazing heat.
Expectation and judgment closing in.
It is of my own creation.
No one else but me.
It echoes in the chambers
Of my heart.
It rings a hollow noise
Through the rooms of my soul.
My body clings
To what it desires.
My mind is weak
Compared to what it could be.
I yearn for something real,
Something true.
Something to fill
This empty bowl.
Fill my soul, Lord.