The worst of the nights, the worst of the days
Seem to come more often of late
Leaving me exasperated: a fine word indeed
When all one’s strength is gone.
Desperate cries to my Lord go out
Nothing comes back. I am alone.
My beloved is here but can do nothing
He is helpless but to feed me something
In hopes I won’t choke, that it might help.
The wretched seizures are more pervasive now
I cannot think of a greater hell
When my head bangs so, my breath does not come
And my thoughts are stuck in stun mode.
Then my Doc cancels again
How is this even right when I am in need
So much is wrong in that office
Leaving me to fend for myself again.
Years have gone by
With nary a change
I guess if another day passes
I must still be alive.
Jesus is for the Wounded 