If I find in myself desires nothing in this world can satisfy,
I can only conclude that I was not made for here
If the flesh that i fight is at best only light and momentary,
Then of course I'll feel nude when to where I'm destined I'm compared

Speak to me in the light of the dawn
Mercy comes with the morning
I will sigh and with all creation groan as I wait for hope to come for me

Am I lost or just found? On the straight or on the roundabout of the wrong way?
Is this a soul that stirs in me, is it breaking free, wanting to come alive?
Cos my comfort would prefer for me to be numb
An avoid the impending birth of who I was born to become

For we, we are not long here
Our time is but a breath, so we better breathe it
And I, I was made to live, I was made to love, I was made to know you

Hope is coming for me
Hope, He's coming

Thanks to Brooke Fraser for putting into words the conversation that is occurring in my soul.