On My Blindness

On My Blindness I'm going blind; Blind from picking roses in the graveyard. Blind from being what I'm not. Blind from being what I am. I am losing my sight; Once I could shoot a rabbit At a hundred yards. In the head. Oh God, I'm losing my eyes. From dancing to long in the rain, And from looking for apples in the henhouse. Red apples and sweet cherries in the henhouse. I sit in despair; I am bleeding from the thorns, From the Graveyard roses. They are whiter than lilies. I am afraid of the night. But what is darkness? But the absence of the light. Dear Jesus guide me in the dark. I am losing my eyes. From looking for apples in the henhouse. Roses in the graveyard; Fire in the teapot.