It’s all fading, this life.

The mundane-ness is draining.

Like a slow death into absolute nothingness.

I remind myself there’s more,

but the attainment of it appears out of reach.

My soul is tired. Exhausted.

“I don’t want to talk about you like you’re not in the room.
I wanna look right at you, wanna sing right to you.
I believe that you are listening.
I believe that you move at the sound of my voice.
Give me dove’s eyes
Give me undistracted devotion for only You.”

That’s what I want. That is what I DESIRE . . .