I thought, perhaps, that I would dream, or if not dream, I’d think. I thought, perhaps, to make my case, or else hear some rebuke. I thought, but thinking’s done; silence only now. I hope I’ll still complete my vow, but, God, how? If I had knees, I’d fall on them, or voice, I’d lift a cry, but I have not even myself. Is this what is to die?
A prayer, then, wordless and plain,
my want all I can give.
So here's my dumb, worthless refrain:
O God, please let me live.
Please let me live. Please let me…
Tale Told 