Fibromyalgia

Apparition of an illness,

Microscopic, Invisible,

Dressed in deceptive covering,

Uncomprehensive to ones own flesh and blood.

Bearing with it,

An echo of sounds,

A low cry,murmer,sob,thunder,

Then back to a low cry.

Its mission as a messenger,

Is to systematize the mind and body,

Causing universal suffering,

With deprivation of a deep slumber.

Extended in space,

With intentions of debilitation,

Thereupon one collapsing,

Into its ghostly arms.

Then swiftly,

It asends heavenward,

From your fallible frame,

And liberates itself into the breeze.

You hear silence, feel stillness,

You simply have a reprive,

Replenishing you with heart,

To carry on...