The River

It flows so wide... too wide, too wide.
I must make it across to the other side.
It makes men from boys and can
Always take from those men all joys.
It is life to some and my path
To freedom. I see it more as a
Road and these two arms my car.
My pain is great and the shore
Just might be too far.
I am in the middle now, for better
Or worse, it is in the Lord's hands.
I heard somewhere that all the
World is in His hands... His
Great omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent,
Hands.  It is not the truth, though,
The river runs not in the course of
Heaven, and hell runs close below.

Alas! It is the only word I know
And down is the only place.
My arms like lead, and listless,
The numbing cold I feel no more.
A limb! A passing corpse of wood--
Deadwood, driftwood; can't reach it...
Can't help... can't save myself...
I am alone in the river
My body starts to shiver;
But when seconds pass this river-cold
Will cease to touch my soul.

No date given= 1997ish?