Hospital architecture
What an amazing view to die from
He said as he gazed through the mists of fog
Upon the town that metropolised
Before he knew to count the years that passed between the transition.
He'd seen his kids grow sporadically through the visits
That reminded him occasionally that he wasn't getting any younger
But that life insurance was sorely needed as
The realm of inevitability was slowly creeping...
Max didn't think it was any great importance that his life didn't flash before him,
He was tired of things moving and was much more content with
A slow death, as a quick death would have just felt weird -
"I went through all that for something so quick?"
His bone marrow was the issue, apparently. So the physician said.
He'd never smoked, but somehow wished that he may have.
It was his mother's fault, he mused, she'd always thought it might kill him.
He figured something had to fail him eventually - it might has well be the temple.
"Foundations..." he pondered. "My foundations are failing me."
"The structure that is holding me together is failing me."
I have a strong will, clever brain, nobel heart, watertight lungs,
No salt can overcome my kidneys, no booze tought enough to fail my liver,
No tumour, typhoid, cancer, arthridis, memory loss;
No broken heart, no insolvent will, no cavity too great, no slowness of breath...
No ulcers, no pancreatic, no pathos no knowing what else other than
The temple itself - it just cannot sustain all of the good within it.
But it is at least a wonderful view.
Maximillian Plainview 1944-2008.