Oh Doctor, tell me they're false, the words you say.
A life should be counted with years, not just through day.
Is it true? Is my end coming closer? But come as may,
I'll persevere, my heart shall not give up, I shall stay!
Oh Doctor, tell me why must it be me who suffers?
Why must I, a modest man, wait as my tale slowly buffers.
Around me, they all speak of my sorry fate in whispers and mutters,
The machine beside me speaks of my sorry state, with the few sound it utters.
Oh Doctor, forgive my recent outbursts of selfishness,
My story is coming to an end, might as well end it with selflessness.
I offer this meagre amount, to those who need it more, for their wellness,
Though I am faithless, I've seen the virtue of the soul, of what man calls fairness.
Oh Doctor, I can feel it, the beat becoming unhurried,
My breath is shallow pasty, yet my soul unworried.
My eyes see nothing, my ears have given up, my words are slurried.
I'll lie down for eternity now, let my ashes spread into the wind, the memory of me buried.