Lord, hear my tender plea
This pain is like a saber toothed tiger,
it ravishes, unrelenting, through bone.
These aches, spasms, intermittent rigor,
beckon my heart to but retreat, alone.
This tire, that does not replenish with rest,
but rather spits and mocks me to my core.
This pain, a parasite, unwanted guest,
consumed, l lie wrapped fetal on the floor.
Despite this illness, that naught can resolve,
I know, in my heart, God shall hear my plea.
The time shall come, when all my ills dissolve,
and my soul and spirit shall jump with glee.
So Father God, my most gracious, kind friend,
be with me now, through this, until the end.
03.02.2024
Copyright © Charlotte Watkins | Year Posted 2024
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