Flare

...

Flare

An age gone tired I live again today,
Yesterday the time passed sour,
Vile and mean, zapping life to death so near.

Not just of this time, but many times met,
Where chill of cold sweat drips off the nose,
Skin soaked, and dripping, on the bed where I lay.

Wanting so much to just lay still, and okay,
But not moments pass before I am forced to heaving again.
Heave bile, then heave nothing, forced to get out what's not there.

Hand in hand with a head-ache that calls so many tears.
My manhood weeps in the miserable pain,
Like a boy not taught to stand up to that rage.

Turning once again, because moments had passed;
Face in the pale to heave bile again last,
In thought of why,  will to live,  will this life soon now end?

As I cry out to God, please help me again,
Hearing  the approach of my death; beginnings end.