It Is Malignant.

I can waste a body
I can shatter dreams
I can raise my threat
Through a thousand schemes.
I can rob a home
I can stunt a life
I can tear the bond
Of a man and wife.
I can pull the blind
Down on hope or joy
And the neighbours’talk
I will oft’ employ.
I am given more
Than my powers are due
I just feed on fear
And the schemes come true.
I am named with awe
In the Hall of Waste
I have Slewfoot’s praise
Seen him face to face.
I have often heard
When their end is nigh
How they doubt their God
How they curse the sky.
But it troubles me
That a few gain power
As they choose to smile
In my meanest hour.
As they give loud thanks
For a life to date
And they lean on Christ
For tomorrow’s fate.


(Cancer’s retrospective)