Purpose

I would sell my soul
If it could purchase a purpose.
I would surrender this wasted eternity
For something worthwhile if but momentary.
The constants have been branded
Upon my eyes
Blinding me to change.
There is a famine across the land
And prospects have failed to spring.
I have grown thirsty for possibility
And hungry for opportunity.
He withholds the rains
That my cracked lips
Hoarsely pray for.
I do not ask for power
I do not plead for fame
I only beg for a single day
That is different from the same.
I hear His silent judgment
As He fails to answer me.
All I do is pace
Unable to escape this short road,
Carving a rut in dry earth,
Each pass one inch closer
Towards my final resting berth.
I want a reason to be
Rather than that of a shadow
Under His glaring eye.
I do not wish to be one of God's mistakes.
And irony does grow
Upon the withered branch of divine loyalty
That my sole purpose
Can only be that of antithesis.
If that requires me to be a monster
If damnation is my sole salvation
I will gladly about face,
Turn away,
Take that grim path
Towards a horizon without sun.
At least then my parched eyes
Would have seen something new.