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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