Irony

I've walked halfway across the desert,
and my legs will walk no more.
I have swam the breadth of this great ocean,
but these poor arms will carry me no farther.
Give me a vision.
Give me the energy.
An eagle flies above me.
I gaze upward, to see his wings spread wide.
I ask who shall set me free.
Is it my fault that I cannot feel the pain?
Am I the pain alone?
Up to my elbows in snapping vipers,
but the deep fountains have dried, and the water is no more.
The legion voices of silence are sreaming in my skull.