As I lay here reflecting upon my life and feeling the time I have left whithering quickly, I do not feel at peace as most would describe. Im surrounded by people yet feel no comfort. The more I speak the more I feel my words are not being heard. It is as if I am insignificant. I have lost everything that means anything. I have no purpose left. I have fought tirelessly in vain. I feel as though I have been betrayed. Where is God in my time of need? It is not now as I lay on my deathbed that I need him. I have discovered that dying is easy. Its living that's hard. God was not there when I was struggling for what was important. My prayers went unanswered. How can I believe in something that was never there? I feel there is something out there greater than myself but I can't call it God. I feel little other than anger and pain now. It seems to be all I have had for so long now. Its like my soul was ripped away along with all that mattered. Why is there nothing but heartbreak for me? No fairness, no justice, no freedom, no peace, no happy ending at least for me. As I prepare for the end I struggle with things unresolved. Injustice weighs heavy on me as well as confusion. You hear so many stories about people finding peace and clearity before death. Why am I not being allowed to have the same things as everyone else? Why am I so different? Why is my voice not being heard?

© DejaVu