THE ILLNESS

by Stephen Barry

We have seen the merry angels of madness
descend upon our home
and dance with fevered frenzy
before collapsing in despair.
Mocking a loving embrace,
they envelope you with feathered arms
that masks a vampiric kiss
which slowly steals your soul.
Leaving us with a hollow shell of memory
and you as the last leaf of autumn
cast aimlessly by the icy winds of winter.