That sinking feeling has found its way with me again. No happy endings so close the book while you're ahead, kid. Autumn came much sooner than I ever could recall. Dead leaves, dead tress, corroded walls. Dear self: I'm better than this. What is life without love but just a meaningless wish? There are thousands more deserving that I know I can meet but the ghost of you that haunts me still lies at my feet. They lie at my feet. So I look to the sky and I beg for release. We're born into an earthy state we are likely to embrace. We are strangers to a concept known as grace. We will trip and we will fall to our face when we learn callousness is commonplace. How did the boy skipping rocks at the sea, so vagrant and carefree, become a wretch like me? How did the man I expected to be fall so far from the tree? Now I'm down on my knees: "Father, set me free." Amazing grace, how sweet the sound. I was dead and gone but now I'm alive and found. I once was lost, but now I see. How could you save a wretch like me?