The Cup

Sometimes I dream of sinking
Deep beneath the sea
Morning finds me thinking
Of thus setting myself free

I gaze into the mirror
And watch my face succumb to age
I try to brush away my fear
And scrape off the growth of rage

I go out to face the day
And cringe beneath the sun
I've got to find some way
To combat this urge to run

Then I make my appearance
Try to find some way to share
But will they grant me clearance
If my words won't lead them anywhere?

It turns out that I'm wrong
To think that I'm adrift
They tell me that I'm strong
They say I've got a gift

There's something here to cherish
Someone offering a hand
He won't let me perish
Or crawl through that scorching sand

So I no longer dream of sinking
Deep beneath the sea
Drowning turns to drinking
From the cup God offers me.