The sea ahead is freezing, from the power of my stare,
My patience and felicity are just starting to tear.
The startling increase of, the eventuality,
That in the next few days, I’ll meet fatality.
My living on the edge, my living on the line,
Causing me to fossilize and lose my crispy shine.
The lubricant of my limbs is starting to cause me strife,
Plagued and stiffened up, by the monotony of my life.
Everyday I am becoming, more unsocial and out of touch,
The vanishing of my youth as I ease of off the clutch.
Nature and the end coercing my hunched back,
The monumental pressure as my face begins to crack.
After noting all of this, with eyes too dry to pour,
I cogitate, can’t understand, because I’m only twenty four.
Years have been unmerciful and bought my life around,
And by the time that I am twenty five, I’ll be well underground.
This illness inside my lung, causing my painful end,
There’s no way to cure it, there’s no way to defend.
Every day the same, no insubordination or overrule,
Until my dying day, this early end so cruel.
