I am broken, mother

But I am broken, mother!
I am down and out,
bitter and sad and torn
and scraping at the bottom of my soul
for that one speck of truth and hope
to bring Me back to me.

What do I do, mother?
I am alone and lonely
inside and out bruised hard
my head no longer finds comfort on this pillow,
it stings and burns with all desire unfulfilled.

Let me know, mother
how you coped then,
yourself alone and bitter and confused
with no help but your own strength
to get you through the night.

For it is winter, mother!
The night is long and dawn still not in sight
and this one body next to mine is dreaming;
his dreams of peaceful rest I envy,
yet I am still alone and lonely in myself.