A Prayer in vain

O Cherubs graceful;
Ophanim so just;
Hashmallim stay vigilant,
and Seraphs with your grace:

Would you bless this scarred husk
that drags bleeding feet across brimstone?

Or let the Light of Morning show me
the beauty of dawn?

O Angels of any rank and order,
I beseech you to end my torment,

for I have forgotten love and joy,
and now I only know emptiness

and the obliteration of all beauty
that lies buried within my pain.

O Angels of the heavenly host,
I beseech you to bless me with an ending

in which at least one person
will attend my funeral,
and remember my name.