The Tick

There is an ugly, swollen thing
Gorging on my brain
With nothing good to offer,
but all of hell to gain.

It crawled on me unnoticed,
Unchecked and untamed,
And drank of me so deeply
I withered to my frame.

Gnawing ever deeper
It grew so great and wide
I bore it like a leaden crown
a rotting badge of pride.

It shaded out the sunlight,
The stars, the waving trees,
Life grew ever dark and dim
from yearning to be free.

There is an ugly, swollen thing
Gorging on my brain
And I will kill it slowly,
And feel no further pain

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