A treacherous lover stole my grace.
Influenza, a cunning disguise,
Infiltrated my heart with chilling lies.
You came with a tender, insidious touch,
A fevered kiss that left my body clutched.
Your grasp tightened, a merciless hold,
As shivers wracked my soul, a tale untold.
Each breath a struggle, a labor of pain,
My lungs constricted, trapped in a wintry chain.
Aches and malaise in symphony aligned,
My every fiber wracked, my spirit maligned.
You whispered promises of sweet release,
But left me trembling, weakened and in peace.
Days melded into a blur of despair,
As hope waned like a flicker in the air.
Yet, through the darkness, a glimmer shone,
A beacon of resilience, dimly known.
With each slow step and each labored breath,
I fought against your clutches, defying death.
Time, the healer, its balm applied,
And gradually strength seeped inside.
The fever's grip loosened, its spell grew thin,
Until at last , your hold grew dim.
From the ashes of illness, I emerged anew,
Chastened and humbled by what I'd been through.
Influenza, a tempest I weathered and survived,
A battle won against a foe disguised.
And so, I bid farewell to the intimate lie,
To the poem of illness, disguised as a try.
For life's true essence shines in its strength,
Beyond the clutches of this fleeting lament.