Death creeps upon me
I can feel Him breathing down my neck
My energy is slowing draining
He holds onto me, not allowing me to be free
The more time passes, the more I look like a wreck
Oh, how He is so restraining
But I refuse to give into Him
I refuse to give in, I will rise up and move on
Feeling sickly for him is just an attraction
His poison is filled all the way up to the brim
But I throw it out, and make my way out yon
Simply because I refuse to give Death satisfaction
I was feeling sick a while back and I wrote this. Everyone would ask me how I was feeling and I continually replied "Like death". A friend of mine pointed out that could be an interesting poem, so I attempted to write one.