The Disease (Poem)

The Disease

Sometimes it's a bad time, 

Sometimes it's a worse time.

The blackening of night tastes of orange rinds and bitters.

The cold wind sends shivers up my spine.

Mindfully thinking about the world I'll leave behind.

It was the house that my father built filled with,

Spiritual energy to ward off all or any enemies.

But the disease infected and reflected a Waning light not bright enough for the little ones to have sight. 

One preferred the light and the other the dark. 

Hark hark and hear, the fears from far and near. 

eyes stapled shut and ears closed and seared

he who lives in the dark is the one they fear me to be

yet

The disease has infected she, and has advanced most painfully. 

The cold in her spine is cured by the warmth of a fine wind. 

Tying her heart in twine as not to feel it fall

Or in the slightest bit hurt at all. 

But tall and insurmountable mountains can't be ignored. Even the strong man and His mighty sword can't best what the mind leads him towards. No matter how Detrimental. No matter how painful. He's Drawn in. With its fiery words and it's Blood made of gin. 

She is held by the addiction 

Blinded by it and taken by it. 

It's bit the bite it needs

That allows her to defend and fight as she pleases. 

But remember she's diseased and they've got to leave. I've gotta leave. Before the disease infects me.

Music for "The Disease":
Room 6 by 36