My life ebbs away,
Days of suffering grip and tear me,
Night pierces my bones and rips my skin,
My growing pain will never end.
I cry out but no one answers,
I stand up but my bones feel like they're breaking,
They turn their heads and don't listen,
And once again I'm tossed into the storm.
No one lays a hand on a broken person,
When we cry for help in distress.
I have wept for those in trouble,
For the poor I have grieved.
When I hope and asked for good, evil came.
When I yearned and looked for light, then came darkness.
I have become a nothing, a no one.
My harp now plays the sound of mourning,
My flute plays the sound of wailing,
My life is opposite.
-Damara
