The Sickness

You left your sickness rotting on my tongue But it seems your betrayal has only begun Infected, my throat lets no word pass their lips Your sickness has become a total eclipse Brittle, my tongue slowly begins to decay Broken, my feet still dance your ballet Made low by the sickness within your soul You leave me with no virtues to extol Condemned like a house my roof to cave A grain of sand on shore eroded by the wave Fractured, my fingers still beg me to speak Blinded, my eyes hide and forget to seek. Silence like a cancer it cankers my voice And as it grows I am left with no choice. You left your sickness to rot on my tongue Terminal, the cancer for one so young.