This Illness

You would be coming around soon to wish me well.

Lightning flashed and lit up the black sky.

You wonder to yourself, will I live, or will I die?

There's something about this stormy night.

And you here by my side wondering if I'm all right.

You stare at me as I lay on the bed.

Could this be the moment that you most dread?

I've been here alone for a few days now.

You're what I've been waiting for, so stand, and take a bow.

No one has the power to make me feel the way you do.

I think a cloud has been lifted and that's thanks to you.

You look out of the bedroom window, at the lightning so strong.

I lay here and wonder where I went wrong.

The room is in darkness until the lightning comes.

It lights up the room, you are startled, but I feel numb.

I want to be strong, just like the storm.

I would like to get out of bed and feel comforted, and warm.

The day will arrive when I'll be able to move from this place.

I'm sure that one day it will happen, and there will be color in my face.

This illness is like waves beating against rock's.

Vicious and cruel, like nature, it mocks.

If I had the strength I would get up and dance.

I wish that somehow I could only have this one chance.

My time on earth will soon be at a close.

Why does it have to be this way? No one cares, no one knows.

I think about happiness and how my life has been full.

Who decides when someone should die, who was it that made that rule?

I will say farewell, at last I must go.

You come and sit by me, your head is hung low.

I squeeze your hand and know you'll be fine.

I see your eyes glaze over for one last time.