Fighting Death Poem by JJ Evendon
Fighting Death
Rating: ★5.0
I'm fighting death
whose claws are sharp.
My wounds bleed profusely
yet miraculously heal
after each bout.
It is relentless.
My body -
weakened -
has taken its toll.
Fighting the good fight
no longer a priority
only gentle peace
is sought
from winged masters.
Thursday, November 1, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: illness
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5/7/2024 5:51:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Sometimes you have to ease the fight to find peace, but in that peace you will find the will to rise once more.