Blessing of Death...

With illness or sickness I struggle.
With pain or anxiety am I afflicted?
Sick in the body or ill in my mind?
My body aches but my mind questions.
The pain of paralysis, the curse of immobility.
Valid judgments, sensing what’s real.
Being dependent yet wanting to please.
Seeing the glass but unable to grasp.
Hearing her speak, not able to respond.
Living in bed with pain and with dread.
Wondering why, yet unable to cry.
I’m here yet I’m gone, a prisoner
without a prison, a body without
purpose, a mind that can’t focus.
Dead to reality, alive to uncertainty.
My world is small, my hell confined.
I pray for the darkness,
for the blessing of death.