Wasted away like a barbaric passion... Dreams to thick, my face is ashen.
Faded away like a ghost too known, angelic eyes but wrists too grown.

I trick you... Damned and thick... Soul too hard, formed to brick.
So moronic of me to assume you wouldn't seal my fate, but I feel the hate, it's too real, too late, stick with peace before you feel the weight

Of my kick... I'm sorry but death is not my pick.
I'm insane, in pain, cancerous mold that holds me chain, vengeance of life that has my reign. Fascinated by the release of my hair, but balding scalp soon to scare, whither to bone, agony sown, but reality isn't fair.

Family distraught, they see me suffer, impaired from the way the tumor got rougher.... But Frail and queasy, I still see glee, I fail too easy but I no longer plea.

Because despite the fragile state of my being, I may not be healthy but death is agreeing. I know love, and I know loss, I stand above the agony of my life's boss. Cancer you eat and take hold of me, but the answer is higher then the cold death I foresee... Inside I'm alive as I'll ever be... Physically broken but emotionally free.