My feet are cold,
and my hands are trembling, reaching out for help.
How do I rise from this damp, heavy bed
when my heart can no longer bear its own weight?
When my soul, worn and battle scarred,
is too tired to fight another day?
Both plead for an ending,
not out of weakness,
but a longing to be free
free from the ache that never sleeps,
free to finally rest,
cradled in the eternal arms
of the God who promised peace.
