Hope for Death - Debtor

I’m just a worthless waste of space,

nothing goes right and it never will.

The world I built has turned to dust.

Despair and misery are all I can feel.

Who am I?

What’s the point of this life?

My groans are pouring out like water from this wretched weak and pitiful frame.

I know I have no future here,

but I will hold onto you.

When everything I worked for withers up and collapses and all my best endeavors

are worthless defeats, and all they would have gotten me anyway is empty vanity

that rots to nothing — everything I do washed away by the waves,

building sand castles with the tide coming in;

the one pure thing that lasts

is service to you;

I want to make this count.

So give me love, make me whole.

Let my time be worth something at all.

Give me love, make me whole.

Restore my hope.