Terminal
He sits there anxious, last day's breath
Unable to stand through what had been said
"Cancer" the solemn doctor diagnosed
I give you about eighteen months at most

He shouts and cries and laughs aloud
There comes a chilling, silent sound
Six months gone, twelve to live
All that he had, and all he will give

The life has then drained, the joy has then ceased
The cancer then grows, this sickening beast
He sees he needs more than the glamorous glow
The clock is still ticking, three months to go

He reaches out with all he had stored
He looks at God's wonders and sees he needs more
He lends a hand, and puts on the glove
He spends his last days dwelling on love

How many days can you see the sun?
How many hours until its all done?
The nights come through the evening sky
How many days until you die?