Death's Hand

The stench of illness fills the air.
Death lingers by my side,
Waiting for my demise.
His putrid breath upon my shoulder.
Tears stream down gloomy faces.
Metamorphosis!
Sad faces contort to something wicked,
Hatred finding a scapegoat to blame.
Deception fills the room.
I gasp for air in disappointment.
The loud sounds of bickering.
The deafening of finger pointing.
The blaring of my once close family falling apart.
I scream, “I’m still here!”.
No one listens over the loudness of hate.
With misery on my heart,
Removing myself from all the false we call life,
From all the backbiting and accusing.
I gleefully take death’s hand.