Cancer

Upon the weary midnight air,

A shadow stirs with silent care.

Beneath the vault of aching bone,

It claims a throne, yet sits alone.

No light escapes its creeping reign,

No solace soothes the endless pain.

The mind, once bright, now drifts and fades,

A labyrinth of phantom shades.

The eyes grow dim, the ears hear naught,

Save whispers of a fate once sought.

Memories, like ravens, flee,

From halls where grief walks silently.

Ah, cruel guest, that burrows deep,

Within the skull where secrets sleep.

You feast on thought, on joy, on breath,

And leave behind the ghost of death.

Yet in this darkness, still I dwell,

Bound by the tolling, mournful knell.

For though the body bends and breaks,

The soul endures the night it takes.

Reviews

[Kenneth The Poet]

You done the rhyme scheme due diligence. As a recent survivor of cancer, I can tell you this resonates with me deeply.