TORMENT

Each day I lay, in this place
Surrounded by my thoughts
Without a way, to move or speak
While my body, slowly rots

Every single day and night
I pray to meet my death
Curse this vile, tube and pump
Forcing into me, my breathe

If I could only disconnect
This tube that pumps my air
I'd gladly leave this earthly Hell
And liberate, my pained despair

No bonds would hold me back
My soul would be set free                                                                        
And soaring up, to heavens gate
I'd be let in, by Thee
BOEMS by JA 520