For days I've been unwell,

The body of mine swell.

The reason I can't tell,

I just feel I'm in hell.

The pricking boiling pain,

Almost turned me insane.

Happiness to me don't rain,

Depression jiggles on my lane.

Thoughts of death freaks me out,

I cannot help but to my life doubt.

But to death I'm never gonna lout,

Until I touch success' snout.

Still, I'm guilty of being unproductive,

In procrastination I've been hyperactive.

That's why I've been vindictive,

To this illness I'll surely live.

Feeling weak still I'll arise,

My determination will suffice,

To turn this illness into dice,

And make it suffer before my eyes.