Alive On My Death Bed

For the last time I surrender, To the throne of excruciating pains, Promising not to complain, All like an icicle it seemed, cold and illy. For the last time I give up, And a tear like silver is glistening in the corner of my eye, Yet, my voice like mournful bells crying in the wind, Suddenly, it's hushed as the grave. For the last time I succumb, To principalities and powers, It's so hard to escape and it hurts fiercely, Like a blast from the suddenly opened door of a furnace. For the last time I've existed, fallen and will disappear, Like apparitions seen and gone, Mentally round-shouldered and decrepit, Mute as an iceberg, I'm tired of dying to live, But I'm still alive on my death bed.