In the corridors of time where shadows play,
A dance of youth, a body's slow decay.
My mind, a vibrant symphony of dreams,
Yet, my aging vessel strains at the seams.

A canvas painted with memories so bold,
But my body whispers tales of growing old.
Fighting cancer, disability and weight gain,
I find myself traveling in twilight's train.

Oh, the echoes of laughter in my mind,
Yet, in each step, I find weariness.
The spirit dances, an eternal flame,
While limbs protest, caught in time's cruel game.

The pages turn, chapters etched in grace,
Yet, my body lags in this relentless race.
A struggle unseen, a silent ballet,
A battle waged as the years slip away.

Through the corridors of my own twilight,
I chase the stars, yet my body takes flight.
In the mirror, reflections tell a tale,
Of dreams unbridled, yet strength may fail.

My swollen legs with my fingers I trace,
They tell the story of the weight I embrace.
A heart that yearns, a spirit that's free,
Yet, chains of time weigh heavily on me.

I long to dance with the winds once more,
To rise above, like an eagle I adore.
Yet, gravity's pull, a force unkind,
Leaves me grappling with an ageing bind.

In the echo of laughter, a bittersweet song,
A melody of resilience, though the body's wronged.
I forge ahead, though my steps may be slow,
For the spirit within refuses to let go.

Through the ebb and flow of life's cruel jest,
I summon strength from the depths of my chest.
My mind, a rebel, refuses to yield,
As I navigate this vast, ageing field.

In the twilight of dusk, I find my way,
A dance with time, come what may.
For though my body may age and tire,
My spirit dances, a perennial fire.

.    .    .