What have I done to deserve this? What could be there, deep in my soul, Where darkness reigns, wrapped up in wire, Covered in pain, consumed by black fire, A miserable, lonely, dark hole. How could light enter this forest of gloom? A cold empty place, down in the ground, No music or love, only harsh distant sound, Things clutching at me, left to my doom. Lost and afraid, alone with despair, Hiding and cringing, becoming all numb, Covering my ears, my voice going dumb, Blinded as if by thick, smoky, black air. The flutter of wings, a soft whispered voice, A touch on my shoulder, some warmth in my heart Hope floating in, bringing down a new start, Offering to me a lost, wayward choice. She holds me so close, but I turn and I shy. This can't be for me, I'm hard and I'm cold, A lost, filthy soul, expelled from the fold, Still she stays, and she loves, and I can only cry, What have I done to deserve this? Nothing. Love isn't about what we deserve, it's about what we're offered. Accept it gladly, in all it's forms and be joyful. Yes, you. And you. And even, most especially, you. Someone loves you, cares about you, worries about you, wants you to be happy. Promise.