Golden waves on an emerald bay
sunset over the starboard rail
they stand close on a final holiday
he can hear the banshee’s wail

Darkened prison of palsy insane
captive optimist bound in doom
shaking right hand clenched in pain
cloistered in a light veiled room

Witch in the west laughs at him
self righteously desires his death
whilst he forgives against ill whim
but for joy holds no breath

“Die already” some might scream
ordering him to give up the ghost
it was not a thing to ever dream
nor is the agony for which he’s host

Soon the knife will his flesh rend
cutting out the broken inner parts
his family’s only hope depends
on the surgeon stopping his heart.