Sweaty Bones

The lovely bones crackle,
while the body swivels
and sways.

The skin is cool to the touch,
but the blood is boiling.

The life force is draining,
choking out from a dry,
hoarse,
throat.

This body can't move,
yet it tries
with a mighty feat
to stand up,
to push on.

All those years spent,
welcoming the inevitable.

I'm not ready to die.