Malaria
Shackled,
I am and bed-ridden: A
Broken
crown; they bruised my rein
These
tiny flying stabbing nuisances
Minuscule
creature, slap tap or clap kill.
I
was not quick to their devilish intentions;
I
dallied to have their toxic injected in me;
Such
to make me now, shaking like a leaf;
My
hotness shooting way outside my roof;
Such
like my head has had mortal installed;
With
a pestle designed to pound non-stop;
And
my nostril stuffed by blockading catarrh:
Such
that nothing I have had or could have;
Would
fend off their invading venomous bugs:
Making
me now find me in sludge, neck deep.
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