Ill You're Born and Ill You'll Stay

Ill you're born and ill you'll stay

All the skies will turn out gray

All the shiny days in may

will eventually melt away

You begin a mess and you end in fear,

as death quickly tiptoes near

The last sputtered breaths you'll hear

wilting away as if wounded Lear

Howling you enter and howling you leave

Against the world you rage and seethe.

I wouldn't bother with Aleve.

Every joyful child your pet peeve

Foolish at your origins, senile when you're done.

Weak as a baby born, violent as a Hun.

Sure you'll try to stand your ground, but in the end you'll run.

Hiding in the darkest caves, escape the exposing sun.

Into the light you come, but at last; the dark!

Your memories a constant threat, hunting like a shark.

Any moment the pain will start,

Build, break, flash, and spark.