High on a hill I lay on rusted steel of a fallen watch tower.
Way up here I feel like a flower nearing the end of it's season,
and so close to my mind lingers the fact of my body's treason.
I run my fingers through my hair as I wind down,
the unfair truth now drifting away as I incline to a more peaceful place.
The tears dry and what seemed like a frown that would last till the end,
now shifts to form the appearance of a more pleasant face.
Hours pass as I enjoy the warmth of the sun as my body absorbs it,
but now I feel the discreet chill of a breeze, reminding me of the doom shadow hanging over me.
I was confident that I had won, but now I wish to freeze time so that tomorrow never comes.
Will I open my eyes every waking day to see that my nightmare draws near, or will I lift this sorrow so to dream of the things that chase away my thoughts of the powerful foe?
An unseen criminal slowly smuggling away the gems until there aren't anymore.
For now I will try hard to play my day to a happier song, but sad to say that not long from now will my story reach the part in which the disease steals away my heart.
E.M.A.
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