There Is No Refuge - Stackridge

Since my sixteenth birthday

Doubts have plagued my sleep

Each yawning daybreak found me hopeless

Writhing underneath the sheets;

I searched four years to find myself

Some purpose to this life

Dividing wrong from right

Even mere consciousness caused such pain

Walking through the woodland;

Tender springtime leaves;

Those little flowers in the meadow

Speak of innocence and peace:

There is no refuge in this world

No saviour, «Self», nor soul

Discarding every goal

When understanding comes —

There is love