Flames are dancing in her wet brown eyes.
She chews her nails, her bottom lip bitten.
Those once playful eyes no longer glisten.
Sits before the log fire, hypnotised,
Trying to burn away the pain and cries.
Handicapped, she has just her heart to listen,
To the burning manifestation of imagination,
Sparks of memory and agonising sighs.
Tumbling down that dark abyss she hated,
Anguished faces loom, doctors tell.
She longed for sweets to be sedated,
As she fell down into the depths of hell.
Cancer. Since that moment she had waited
For bittersweet death, then darkness fell.