You wallow in the despair of your choosing,
and sit at death's door, waiting for an invitation;
Life holds no promise for you,
for life has let you down.
You feel no hope, for you see no hope;
You feel no love, for you see no love;
You see the world with eyes
blinded by your pain,
birthed by emptiness;
You don't see the light
that surrounds you,
for your eyes are closed
to the truth.
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Comments: 17
Mary..yes, I realize the poem is bleak. And it may seem to come from a place of no compassion. But it actually comes from 27 years of assistance, compassion, and encouragment, and I have gotten to a place where I feel so helpless in helping this person. My hope is waning. He is in God's hands. I am so tired. I feel like giving up, for his depression is affecting me to the point I can't take it anymore. I have cried rivers of tears for this person, and done all that I can to help. I am done.