Sickness, it consumes me. It slowly drains me, bit by bit, as I fall into a slow and depressing reverie of self-pity. My mind pulses with hundreds of thoughts, milling around, finding weak places to strike at my failing frame. People, the people that I love, that I hate, that I find peace with, that excites me. The friends and family that supports me, the enemies and rivals that watch me fall. Painfully I feel my lifeforce, slowly being sucked away, floating, moving from within my weak grasp.
My friends are gone, my family left me. My life is empty, my feelings grim. I sense Death as it creeps on me. I sense its malice, its greed.
And I sense its anxiousness.
I realize my fate, and I realize my dreams. I realize that my life is slowly flitting away, the butterfly wings crimson red, dripping like blood, leaving empty stains of a wasted life in its wake. Higher and higher it goes, reaching the clouds, the sky, the birds. The earth a small and pointless place for it to linger. For it has