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.