Cruel grip of fever cast,
Each moment stretching, tethered to the past.
Sickened heart, a weight so deep and vast,
Life’s cruel jest, this test, it seems, to last.

The world’s demands, they heed not my despair,
Drowning in misery, gasping for fresh air.
The ache, the burn, each cell screams, “It’s unfair!”
Yet grind I must, through this foul, muddied lair.

Every task, a mountain, steep and sheer,
Each step, a journey, fueled by dread and fear.
Oh, how it sucks, this ailment’s puppeteer,
Controlling me, my joy it does sear.

Desire for solace, for a moment free,
From fever’s chains and life’s harsh decree.
Yet trudge I on, in silent agony,
Hoping soon, from this torment, I’ll flee.