Who By Fire

I've been bad about writing for a long time.   I want to post positive, upbeat things to encourage those with the challenge of chronic, intractable pain that cannot be controlled.   I've got a surgery scheduled for the end of January and I'm terrified it won't make any difference.   NF is ruthless, unforgiving and beyond challenging.   I struggle constantly to make sense of it; whether or not there is a G-d or if everything is just random good or bad luck.   Anyway, I've been working on this stream of consciousness poem (it was stream of consciousness but I tweaked it) below:

The day will come when lights are low and all I’m breathing in will go

Then to this world I’ll bid goodbye and hope you know I did, I tried

I fought like mad against the pain that seared right through, all grip all gain

I’ve often left it through my mind in search of comfort hard to find

Precious pain-free moments heaven, pain dips down from 10 to 7

Music, oils and meditation, seeking comfort, speculation

Surgery is my last hope to find relief whatever scope

If that bid fails no option’s left, I do not meet the standards set

for helping those in mortal pain but no “by when” date, what a shame

A life of pain with no conclusions, no longer clutching doped delusions

of hope that pain will end in time, to have a life out of this bind

I know they have to draw the line on who to help but what a crime

Left alone to make a choice, take the action, use my voice

But “what if’s” haunt as much as pain, the list is long as is the strain

of questioning why I’m here, is there a G-d and is He near?

Or was my birth and shattered gene, just a crapshoot, not foreseen?

If that’s the case why wait around just pack my bags and leave this town

But if there is some truth to learn, then patiently I’ll wait my turn?

and live in torturous, intractable pain, it’s hard to believe this was ordained

One thing is true, for this I pray, to not return to Earth one day

And when it’s time and lights are low, all my breathing in will go