Alone in a place
That cannot be described
Constantly in a state
Of unknown wait
Questions so important
Fade to other degrees
As new issues present
An ever more complex Picture of health
Breathing easy
Is only a bogus façade
Of assembly line pills
And generic, clinical trials
Hours of isolation
With preoccupation
With the most basic and mundane
Of physical functionality issues
People really don’t know what to say
And the “patient” is identified
To be separated
To avoid the news recipient’s guilt
It is a dark room
Blaring with giant, white question marks
Life and death
Now seem to have but a hair line between them
In the ominous depths of winter
A sprig of bloom Has to be found
Or the cave leads to a cavern
That never lets the light come in
The pride, the hidden fear
The radical change in persona
Internally and externally
Leaves the personality and identity to start anew
Run to western, molecular medicine
Or run away to the jungle mystics
The whole of existence Radically contemplated
Based on a tiny, culprit invader.
If only it were Off to normalcy
A road so less traveled
Hand wide open for a miracle
Heart embracing every humorous sonata
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