Seizure

His eyes started getting dimmer
In his hands, a slight tremor
As the eyes rolled back into his head

He fell to the floor
At about half past four
As a see of foam billowed from his lips

Nowhere in sight
Was the assistance or might
He needed so he could carry on

Blood pooled from his head on impact
You could tell he wasn't putting on an act
As the seizure proceded in its purpose

His arms started to flail
He let out a wail
You could tell he couldn't take it anymore

The brain told the nerves, who in turn, told the eyes
"Let him choose his own demise"
So finally he fell asleep

Not a sound in the room
as the outside world moves on, as absent-minded as he