Ceiling of doubt

I was told the sky was endless, But mine was a feather away A low lid of shadows. Every step echoes in a room That was never meant to hold me. Still, they say, reach higher. But my hands find only fog, And my faith slips through it Like water through open fingers. In despair, or deep sleep I open my eyes But I’m blind Feeling my way through a world That swears there’s light above me.