"What can I do to make you love me? There's nothing left to say, nothing left to do. I have crawled through your Saharah. Rescued you from drowning in your tears. I have withstood your heat and your blizzards. And here I fumble before you in my bag of flesh and bone, hoping for a kind word to come and save me. But wasted I lie here, wasted in this ashen field I have created. My bloodied palm and splintered feet know naught but its struggle to feed. I give. I give and now there's nothing left to give me. What can I do to make you love me? What is left for my saving grace? Will I suffer an eternity here in my dark cold room, trembling, gasping through this tepid air, waiting for your breath? Perhaps you, love and the glinting promise of redemption are my holy grail. But, oh, I struggle against my skin, screaming to break free. My futility defeats me. I long to break free of these chains, of this strait jacket holding back my insanity. ARGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!! Freedom, bestow it upon me!!! Give me my freedom!!! Give me your love! Save my heart. Save my heart. Oh, lord, someone save my heart. I have waited, and I have longed, but the savior I have waited for, the savior I have needed I find is not in you. What can I do but lie here? I am weak and I am tired. My strength I have spent on saving you. But now, who will save me? Who will save me? My palms are bloodied, my feet are splintered. I no longer can crawl to your alter. There is no strength but this breath, and already I have wasted it, lamenting to deaf ears. Will you ever hear me calling? Will I ever feel your soft lips press against mine to give me what I so deserve and need? I cannot crawl any longer. Come save me. Please come save me... Please..."

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