Broken

Half of my body suffers in mid-life crisis  
While the other side slumbers nearer to death  
A stoke will do that as it strips you bare  
Wishing as well to feel nothing inside  
My skin beginning to wither with lines  
Fools my reflection to think the mirror has cracked  
Kidnapped and held prisoner beneath an unmarked gravestone  
That hovers above to hide my dying inner child  
Nothing and no one can reverse the numbing effect    
That robs my left limbs of once average strength    
Barely able to hold the cane that helps stand me up  
The dead cells in my brain form bars on my eyes  
While the shadow of my memory fades like the night  
Treason most fowl to deny lovely visions so fair  
Who are lost to my heart and the rest that has died