The Rheum

A fevered breath, a choking sigh The trembling hands, the pleading cry The air is thick, the eyes are dim The world spins slow, an aching hymn The fever burns, the body weak The skin is cold, the voice too meek A distant fog that clouds the mind A fading hope, a truth maligned In every cough, a story told A tale of rot, of limbs gone cold The room is dark, the shadows crawl The rheum, it whispers, beckons all No cure to find, no end in sight Just endless nights and fading light The breath grows shallow, heart beats slow The body dies, the soul lets go