My soul is starving
With my spirit striving
And my consciousness contriving
For death's arriving

Heaven proclaims, my soul is starving
For even though faith resides aplenty
Of all else, I am barren and empty
For even though faith burns strong and brightly
My every action speaks contrary
Heaven proclaimed, my soul should starve.

I truly feel my spirit striving
For sweet surcease and release from the grind
To leave mortal limitations behind
For change or escape, no matter the kind
To rush to a fate, others feel resigned.
I truly felt my spirit strive.

Hopefully my consciousness contrives
For is not cessation of self, weakness
Silly, disregarding, childish quaintness
And it must be selfish to seek solace.
At the expense of kin's caring caress.
Hopelessly my consciousness contrived.

Now my soul has starved.
And my spirit has strived.
But no matter how much my consciousness contrived.
Peace has arrived.