i wonder if it is possible that having tried for so long to get to this point where before health was so important that being finally released i am now to suffer the loss of it and the indignity of illness. if i go no further i have accomplished much and leave much still done. the dying scream i am not ready yet, mocked by youth. the unfirm plead to the firm who cannot help whatever their inclination.
i am poisoned and suffer from strain and infidelity, from passions gone ary like a train engine barreling off the track into a chasm. is it any wonder with my conflicts and missteps my passion and sacrifice of others as well as myself that my insides should turn on me even as my eyes repay betrayal in kind. come on illness and even death, inevitably you define my end whether today or tomorrow one more day without you is an eternity the moment to live for is to embrace you one more time or the point is lost
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