It's come, it's close,
It's not too far,
It's come to make again,
The bleeding red on my scars,
It's not here as fall or winter,
It's here to hurt,
Like the summer blisters,
It has to go,
It has to leave,
It must vanish,
So I can breathe,
This amorphous abomination,
With its heart like water fleet,
Must leave must leave must leave,
Before there comes war,
When it must come to cede.
