A Soldier’s Prayer to St. Jude

May 6, 2010
Hey you, I’m lost
And this being, probably, my final hour
I wasn’t sure who to pray to
But I remember filling out those fundraising forms for your hospital
So I figure you must have something to do with people without any hope
I’m bleeding
Now I know why the color of the church is red
It’s funny that I’ve never felt closer to God till now
How bad does that seem?
Think you can put in a good word up there for my soldier’s soul?
I mean, I know you’re not St. Michael, but I’m not exactly the hero type either
Despite what the local newspapers will probably write
I hope no politician tries to bring my family to a speech
I’m not dying out here for their right to wave the bloody shirt
It must be depressing work watching over fools like me
Fools who would die for ideals as distant and vague
As that oasis I see,
But that I know doesn’t exist, it’s just more heat and sand
Another mirage
I guess my life is flashing before my eyes, because I can remember a garage sale
And I can remember not wanting to let go of this old toy that was falling apart
But I did anyway, for fifty cents
You don’t think God feels that way about me do you?
I haven’t been too much in my life
I’ve been loud, rude, lustful, and mistrustful
So this is my last shot at honesty and honestly I think it’s pitiful
So take pity on me
This gun is too heavy to hold in my hands
And my blood feels so chilled against the desert sand
My eyesight is fading and my breath is growing faint
Jude, you’re a saint
Say a prayer for my lost cause
I’m a sinner lost in the holy land without a prayer on his tongue
I mean, I was in the choir once, but that was when I was really young
And the only song I can remember is Amazing Grace
But now my faith is running low, like the drops of hot sweat streaming down face
And I don’t want to die another dehydrated body somewhere in the Middle East
My open chest wound won’t let my scarred heart find rhythm or peace
And so I implore you Saint Jude to aid me in my despair
I’m not asking for justice, duty, or truth, I just want someone to care
They say you died around here, in the Middle East, too
Though I really don’t know where
So you must know how it feels to have no chance
Let me cling to the hem of your robe
I’m beginning to leave this pain behind me at last

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