For What I Long Poem by Jason Pack

Where do I stand,
If not on the ground?
Where do my feet land,
What Earth have they found?

Do I climb clouds,
Or hike through the sky?
And if I look down,
Would I fall and die?

Do I trudge through the sea,
Through the deepest trench?
Am I doomed to be,
A haggard old wench?

Do I walk alone,
No one by my side?
A face that's not shown,
But chooses to hide?

Am I accursed,
Doomed to my death?
Shall I rehearse it,
As I draw my last breath?

What hell do I face,
If not of my own?
Without is my haste,
Within is my moan.

A cry to above,
A cry to below.
A cry of my love,
A cry of my woe.

What hand do I clasp,
What help do I hope?
Will it slay the Asp,
Or hang the rope?

What Hell is this,
That I contend?
What brave assault,
Shall I defend?

I see a home,
A home built strong.
And now I know,
For what I long.