When I wake,

I cannot see.

It's all I can take,

Why did you give this to me?

I'm cursed with these eyes.

My morning mirror mocks me.

Like one day I might not see the skies,

It scares me that this one day might be.

Why would you make this imperfection?

Sometimes it makes me want to cry.

I guess you could call it a blessing...

So I cover up the fear with a lie.

But what if it can't be stopped.

What if you take away your glory?

What if one day all hope is dropped?

What if you do take sight out of my story?