My story becomes darker still,
from death I'd tried to run.
A battle I had thought I won
had only just begun.
My daughter was not quite herself,
she soon began to change.
Her body grew darker in shade,
her habits grew quite strange.
Her green eyes sank inside her skull,
not one word did she speak.
Instead, she'd scream out loud for days
with cold sweat on her cheek.
Her bedroom reeked of foul decay,
think sour milk left in heat.
Though it was always kept so clean,
it stank of rotten meat.
My son refused to go nearby.
The dog would stay outside.
"Her skin is much too cold," Doc said,
"Almost like she has died."
My daughter stayed alive, that's true,
but there was quite a price.
My wife moved out with baby Sue
and in moved hordes of mice.
My son obtained a nasty cough.
The Doc looked up and said,
"His lungs are full of putrid gas
His throat is spurting red."
And still my daughter stayed alive.
My son — his skin turned grey.
My wife married another man
My dog soon ran away.
I found Grim at a funeral,
my father's, to be clear.
"What honor!" I was told he'd said
when Grim took daddy dear.
Our eyes did meet over dad's tomb.
I grabbed at his black cloak.
"Grim I must speak with you right now,
I'm losing all," I croaked.
"I tried to warn you, brother dear,"
Deep tears were in his eyes.
"Life fades to nothing without death.
I told you to be wise.
Too late I am to help you now,"
he did sadly explain,
"The deed you must handle yourself,
You'll be forever stained."