Life Syndrome

We all have it.

There is an ailment to which there is no cure.

I gasp for air, but the pressure in my lungs give way to the depths of perception.

I blankly stare, watching the blood-red eyes following me.

All the terrors my subconscious mind has abandoned, only lead to new forms.

New transformations that find their way back to truth.

I cannot deny, that this disease affects all of us.

We all become a delusion to each other's desires.

We all fall victim to the symptoms to which are hidden beneath the skin.

I look at you and you seem full of life; no pale cheeks are perceived.

However, your veins are weak and they speak whispers of unforeseen demise.

The most horrible revelation is the one we have always known.

Why do you scream when you felt it all along? Why do you cringe at me?

Cracked mirrors, blackened sludge, and the final breath -

All sights that instill a deadened heart.

Yet I say to you that your cries are deafened by your eyes.

The coughing, oh the terrible coughing!

I witness it now where never before it peeked its ugly  head!

Go away you beast! I regret ever conjuring you in my cognizance!

I will never realize that you are the cure!

I will never accept that you are the escape from nothingness, the empty void.

There is an ailment to which there is no cure.

I say to you that it kills all men and women alike.

We ignore it because it is all we have ever known.

No exception am I to the rule.

I'll follow the rest of you into the drowning pool.

Life is a terrible infection.

It clings to us like death, but it is much slower.

So much slower.

Author's Note

Please tell me how this made you feel.