Death becomes me in this dark and lonely hour.
My mood has become distant, mysterious, and sour.
Yes, something wicked this way comes.
A chilled moment has passed before I feel It's gnawing gums.
Necrotic demise It's only liege,
It has no teeth to pierce my body in quick siege.
Nay, a swift death would betray the struggle and strain,
instead, It chews away, rubbing, gashing, a constant eating pain.
I feel time drain me, my flesh rotting,
blood of life that used to rush through me, now clotting.
It is a cancer of thought, feeling and being,
It dashes all hopes, It sends them fleeing.
I close my eyes, so as not to see It's stark indifference.
I cover my ears, so as not to hear It's harshness.
I close my mouth, so as not to taste It's bitterness.
I plug my nose, so as not to smell It's stagnant reek.
I cover my body in a blanket, so as not to feel It's icy physique.
Yet I find that It still invades my mind,
the thoughts are twisting, cruel and unkind.
It grows stronger as It feeds on my soul.
I feel myself slip as It takes control.
My existence It has come to devour,
yes, death becomes me in this dark and lonely hour.
~Kristi Miles (July 2005)