In my friend is a sickness – 
a foulness threatening 
his breath
his blood
his life.
We pray for his healing – 
for the pain to cease
for the discomfort to ease
for some sort of relief;
all the time forgetting – 
in my friend is the Spirit of God
the lifeblood of generations
the glory of battles won.
Rise up, now, Mighty Warrior,
the stench of death overcome!
Drench my dear friend
in the precious blood of Your Son.