Losing ambition.

Forgetting to kindle the

Eternal furnace.

"Till death do us part."

Twenty years I've washed your shirts.

Where were you last night?

Eight legs, cunning mind

Web of death helped by disguise

Glad I'm not a fly

there will be no one

to play the exception, to

prove the rule true

Porcelain skin,

Crafted by Satan,

Blink, blink.

My odds are against me

It's only a matter of time

BRCA1 owns me

Wind, blowing loudly.

Destruction everywhere, true.

Tornado...oh my!

I disappear here,

No longer real and solid,

I fade away now.