Looking at my own self,
at my own desires.
What will I become?
What am I becoming?

10 years from now
what will I be?
An empty human being
like so many I see?

10 years will pass by,
they go by so fast.
I can see it as I look
10 years into the past.

Where was I standing
10 years ago today?
Breaking my back for love
that would later betray.

Now here I stand alone
on the empty train platform,
my spirit dead to love -
travel-weary and worn

wondering if God
has had his fill of me
or if there is some hope ahead
that I just can't see.

A cracked pot of clay
at the back of the line,
a weary battered vessel
in a state of decline.

That pot might be patched
with a lump of clay or earth
but I fear I must be re-fired
to be of any real worth.

Broken, not again - God,
how much longer?
To be host for your spirit,
how much stronger?

10 years ago I sang with hope
of the purifying Fire,
I believe in you, Refiner,
but now I'm just so tired

 - oh so very tired...

Tired of hypocrisy,
tired of my shelf,
tired of Christianity,
but even more tired of myself.

But somehow I'll keep walking,
keep wandering, keep failing,
keep crawling, keep falling,
and find what I was meant to be
 - or die missing it entirely.