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Serrata
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Apoptosis
With fragile hands,
I release this form to the wind,
Witnessing division of myself,
Through weary eyes I see my colours fade,
An unfamiliar air escaping from my lungs,
Is the displacement of an embrace that I've learned to love,
Just know this suffering holds more than you can see,
Falling through and I feel the break,
Into infinite ever changing states,
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And I'm a concept to every single cell that grows,
And a legacy for all those that decompose,
Just know this suffering holds more than you can see.
(This is a coordinated programme,
That kills the cell in a very neat way,
By programmed cell death,
The cells are programmed to die.)
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