Circling the Drain

Closer that dreaded angel comes, Nearer my God, to Me. Family fallen, too near the edge. I walk in doom for tomorrow. In crazy and cowardly remote concerns, You death draw a lottery place in line. Gamble me this, pitiful reaper, Are you even real? Within two feet now, A rattling within my rib cage staggers, But my brother drank his death, And my new mother's mind just withered. Chronically brain is wet and warped, But I was born into your game. Allergic to kindness and good works alike, Death circles my brain, my drain in perpetuum. Your manufactured trap of vomit and cane, And sugar plum dreams of gutters and glee, I dodge you again, but for luck or for timing, Life leaves daily, per moment of fear.