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.
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