~Esther Mitchell, 2014~
I rushed to your aid,
Stood at your back,
Avenging angel against the hordes.
I’ve trod Hell for you,
I’ve churned up fields full of mines,
And poured my blood on land that still screams for more,
All in your name,
No pause for my health, my blood, my life.
I’ve come to you in your darkest night,
Sat beside your sickbed,
Bathed your skin of the sweat of illnesses – both body and spirit,
I’ve knelt by your side,
Blessed the ground you tread,
Soothed your fears,
With a hand upon your head.
I’ve taken your pain,
Worn it as my own,
Offered you, without request or reward,
Peace, love, honesty, and safe haven.
Now I lay torn and battered,
A fluttering specter in the night,
And I’m forced to come crawling to you,
Begging for your aid,
To which you turn a blind eye, a deaf ear,
You make excuses,
For why it’s too difficult for you to help,
How there’s nothing you can do.
I never turned you away,
I gave everything I had to give.
But it’s too difficult for you,
When just one moment could help me live?