Alexander in Death's Embrace

'Tis me, in illness oh so dire,
by melody of harmonious lyre,
to seize the earth away ere,
by merit of the desired heir,
be I all equal to the gods,
or one besieged by odds,
or is death mine illusion mere,
to drive so many to tear,
to delve deep into mind,
unveil whilst I was blind,
be that my thoughts last,
before I pierce sleep vast.