Fumbling through a wilderness of pain
Lost in a desert of doubt
Desolate in a winter of anxiety
Buried in a coffin of maladies
Alone in a city full of people

Time and time again hearing whispers of doubt
Negative opinions and false truths
That I am nothing
That I will become nothing
Then die with nothing and no one

For out of the dust of the ground I came
And to it, I will return
For all things under the sun are meaningless
And in the end, toil means nothing except death
For this life is a lost cause

Then the winds of the wilderness increase
And the disorient of the desert intensifies
The death and terror of the winter do not relent
This capsule of corpses latches shut, trapping me inside
And the people of the city war against me

My hands tremble with the fears of my heart
My heart aches with the troubles of my soul
And my head pains with the false-knowledge I know
For I am filled with lies upon lies upon lies
And how might I ever know truth in the midst of such treachery?

It is then, in the midst of my hell
When the weight of this life has all but crushed me
And I am about to give up and die
About to accept these lies I've been fed
But then, the Lord speaks to me

I hear the voice of a heavenly nature, and it says;
‘Son, be still, and know that I am God’
Then, like a miracle
My trembling hands and unsteady heart are cured, and I'm stilled
For He has always been God, and has never left my side
And to the day I die, and even beyond, He never will