Cough of Thunder

A stormy cloud soars above
my fogging lungs and dying love,
my throat thunders deep below
and stomach a sea churning slow.
Fighting a battle of germs,
of squirming worms,
of bacteria,
filling my body with malaria,
of viruses and bugs,
of lightning skies
spewing down, and multiplies
into clones and twins a kind
ripping humans out of line,
slowly, killing,
over time.