It’s no wonder I’ve felt so tired 
I’ve witnessed the careless all running past me 
While I’ve been told to ignore my desires 
And grow numb with understanding 

I walk through theses woods 
I carry this deadwood 
I am determined to see this through 
Driven only by the guilt and the shame of giving up 
I must complete what I set out to do - For you 

It stayed on a shelf made of my arms 
They had grown strong from giving support 
I knew that my arms could hold out forever 
It was my mind that’d grow tired 
And in time would let go 

It’s been so long since I have questioned 
What it is that I really want 
Instead I follow your directions 
As you lead me on 

I can’t use it to build my home 
It will not fulfill my desires 
Some wood can be used to help build a life 
This wood will be used for building a fire 

Why carry this deadwood with me… 
…when were I’m going there will be living trees 

Now close enough to carry it all to the end 
But throwing it all to the ground instead 

This bundle of deadwood 
The pieces they fall 
Corners indent the soil and accumulate on one another 
Tumble down and pile up 

It awkwardly spills like myself at a time 
Like the time it had killed 
Like every moment after it was collected and held 

I’d give up all that I started 
To pursue all that I wanted 
I may arrive empty handed 
But at least I will arrive