The Consumptive
All day in the sun
That he loved so
He sat,
Feeling life go.
All night in bed
Waiting for sleep
He lay,
Feeling death creep—
Creeping like fire
Creeping like fire from a slow spark
Choking his breath
And burning the dark.
That he loved so
He sat,
Feeling life go.
All night in bed
Waiting for sleep
He lay,
Feeling death creep—
Creeping like fire
Creeping like fire from a slow spark
Choking his breath
And burning the dark.
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