All I can see is a blurry vision of things around me. My eyes are better of closed.
I can barely move. I feel a heavy weight on my chest, that locks me into place.
I feel the swelling, the flush of pain through my veins.
I am silenced by these thorns on my throat, that leave me with a hard-breathed sigh.
I am weak, Lord I am weak.
But you are my strength. You are my healer. You are my savior.
You are renewing my body, you are reviving me, you are doing a work in me.
Carry me in your arms, as I fall asleep in this bed of sickness, for there is no sweeter place to be.
