Cloth

It’s getting worse, all of the symtoms seem to be getting worse and it’s getting harder to do things. Walking is near impossible to do without support or taking my time from the kitchen to the chair. They say it’s nearer months, but I hope it’s soon; I can’t see the point in having me hang on like I am, getting worse.

2 thoughts on “Cloth

  1. Before us great Death stands
    Our fate held close within his quiet hands.
    When with proud joy we lift Life’s red wine
    To drink deep of the mystic shining cup
    And ecstasy through all our being leaps—
    Death bows his head and weeps.

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