Sight
Marc Mosko, 1996

Take this lonely heart of mine
and give it extra sight.
Give it power to see ahead,
out of its awful plight.

It has wandered far on dusty
roads, barren places all alone.
It's craved so long for a mate,
grown cold, almost stone.

Lift this weary heart of mine,
and give it gentle rest.
Pampered long and lovingly,
washed and cleaned and kissed.

If only, if only, you existed,
you who would do these things.
An image, a wraith, you haunt me,
but never do you exist.

In perilous corridors, dark and blind,
my heart drives my mind.
If the one finds no relief soon,
the other is compelled to doom.

O Powers, give me something shiny,
something bright, something at all.
Let me see far enough,
far enough to restore my hope –
or seal my fate.