Poem about a life destroyed by CFS

Boiling magma of melted bone,

bubbling down into hell.

Painful cracks scar the land,

puss drips in my shell



Dead is the last of the whales,

made out of my hopes and dreams.

Harpooned by a shattered future,

marooned by the CFS theme.



Rotting is the sky and moon,

even the asteroid is filled with maggots.

White hot is the scalding rock beneath,

and time itself, rots.



A rainbow catches fire and cries out in fear,

but there is one to hear but me.

My journey has ended at the wrong destination,

my Ocean of peace is empty.

Comments

You can't write a poem this good without living it...well, you can, actually...poetic license, etc.
This is excellent, I wrote some like this, though, and I was feeling the pain, physical and emotional.
Good talent here. No one has commented and I hope it's ok that I did. Lots of depth and wonderful expression.
I love it.
Edit: I love the last verse especially.
 
True living with it. Good poem. I'm a new member and hope to find support and give support. I also am trying to find out how to introduce myself and my story with ME/CFS.
 

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