Give me strength enough to walk these final miles.

For I am sick at heart and my life is not my own,

I am weary, I am tired,

Of the dust along the road.

The dance you chose for me is hard,

I cannot find the joy or feel the steps,

So I stumble and I falter,

Trying still to mark my time.

Perhaps in that last sunrise when the dance is at an end,

I will look to where I came from and to everywhere I’ve been,

I will see the steps were awkward,

But at least they were my own.

All I ask in that last hour is to have clean hands and heart,

That if I didn’t dance the right steps then at least I did no harm,

In the setting sun I’ll finish,

And my feet will dance no more.



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