Ill

Was on the shore of an island when I felt the wind pick up,

Silent clouds made their exit calmly, alluding to a coming storm,

I could sense disease spiralling around my head,

A lone cackling crow signalling approach over body, kill, kill,

Flu possessed my soul, racked bones to a beach bed,

So toxic, those that approached couldn’t resist becoming ill,

Automatic manic transmission, the gears shifted quickly,

Sank into the sand with frightening speed, this tunnel,

Produced a silver lining before all light was finally extinguished,

Illness dropped me into a well of dreamless sleep, embalmed,

A relentless mind and insomnia was conquered, calmed,

Like sickle cells developed in time to cut down malaria,

My fever rose out of need to burn out deliria, hysteria.