A Dying Man
I am a dying man,
For I be dying fast.
Just us as all us being,
With every breath we take.
Yet here I stand here dying,
Everyday brings it closer.
The pain it changes me,
More determined to end my life.
The dying man be living,
But not for long at all.
And neither do I,
Have much time,
For plans be almost complete.
Then to complete the execution,
Of myself it be.
A dying man,
Does come to terms,
With his harsh cruel fate.
As have I,
And as should you,
So leave me be,
Meddle not in my affairs.
No intervention,
No waking up,
No humiliation within infirmaries.
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