That oppresive feeling.

All it touches becomes infected,
medicine leaves it only redirected,
no matter how thoroughly it is dissected.
Nothing is safe, no one can hide,
like an old friend it hangs beside,
a freeloader looking for a ride.
Withering all that it touches,
for some though it merely brushes,
while to another it rushes.
Prehaps it cuts them like a knife,
wrought deep in miseries strife,
looking to claim another life.
A deep hole it could be,
that stops all attempts to see,
trapping victims in infinity.
Others let themselves be covered
and in the darkness they are smothered,
preferring life to be mothered.
A pale shadow it is to some,
or a disease that leaves them numb,
that much harder to overcome.