You are dying surrounded by machines
that meant to keep you alive;
your only company are nurses and
the constant beeping of your heart
that is fighting to prolong your pain.
Your visitors are few and far between
as you sleep through your last days;
you lost your voice to your sickness
as it proceeds to take your body too.
I dread your reality will become mine:
rotting away with no one by my side,
holding grudges that destroy relationships
and isolating myself from others.
Just a sad existence, soon just a memory
to the chosen few that ever knew you,
and when we follow suit towards infinity,
you'll be just a name on a gravestone.