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"The Fever"

Little elf's shizzeled at my head,
working loudly as the world around,
surrounding me spoke of silence.
I could not hear the silence above
the shizzeling,but I knew it was there
as it always was in the aura of my bedroom.
Covering my ears magnifies the pounding
of these little axes and tools.
Intense inside my head,I see these
little evil elf's diligently working.
My mind was there,I could not escape
the intrusion.
It was cold,so cold that hot August
day.I left the silence I could not
hear in my room and eluded to the
tree in the back of my house,where
the sun,its golden beams,shone
brightest on this tiny hill
in the yard where I played well as a child.
Covered in a blanket,I lay in
the warmth of the sun's rays.I felt though,
as if a blizzard was covering this little
hill with its frigid cold.I looked
toward the sun to cure me with its arms of warmth.
I shivered still, on and on.
Was it these little elfs that ate
at my brain on that cold blistery hot
summer day?
Were they the army of MS that
invaded my brain?
I don't,but I remember it so.
Could it be,for no one knows,maybe it
was they.
And why now,do they work in silence?
I wonder.

Learn more about this author, Susan Middleton.
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