THIS IS DISEASE

It is about that which is called disease
As when it appears, snatches my ease
Again my strength seems to decrease
The sense of wellness seems to cease

Along with it, eyes get red and teary
As my whole being seems too weary
The neck pains and the voice chokes
As limbs ask for massage and strokes
With a desire for this pain to appease

From within one will feel sick and ill
Having intake of the capsule and pill
With hope to recover and to get well
This yearning I can’t describe or tell
I plead for help bending on my knees

Because of this one can’t do his task
All he wants is to lie down and bask
Of remedies and cures they are told
By kind too words they’re consoled
May be somehow stress will release

At one time, can’t be taken anymore
And it makes one feel bitter and sour
Always I wish to escape this misery
So of sickness, I don’t have to worry
To gates of health, I wish I had keys