If I died some years ago
My soul was ready, it did seem
But if today I was to go
I’d go unaware of life’s scheme

Once I was sure I knew happiness
And it grew stronger and stronger
But now I am sure of less and less
And seem to be growing no longer

Depression comes in the wake of ascension
Of a rising soul in its yearning
Testing its strength in the human tension
Trying the validity of its learning

Many thoughts return from the past
Reliving the gamut of pain
The taste of heaven does not last
Only confusion does remain

If the search for truth be eternal
Then truth is not to be found
The search itself is infernal
Nothing in life is profound