It is right in front of you, clear as night.
Hidden beneath the walls of skin and bones,
Lies right next to your beating heart of fight,
A tumor of hopeful loss etched in stones.
Sunken eyes, tired lungs, Can he hold on?
Family of hope, light leaves his eyes but
a fight ensues, the battle lines are drawn.
Last breaths are taken, nothing to rebut.
Til death do them part, she’ll bury him soon.
Death lies right in his palm, they have a deal.
Smoke inhales him, he’s no longer immune.
It’s not a metaphor; it’s all too real.
Leaving the ones you love, slowly kills all.
Nobody could help, he answered the call.