Death sneaking,
With no scent it snatches and runs.
Saw it strangle-holding my housemate
Suffocating her, she struggled to breathe
As she was trying to tackle it,
It wrestled.

The snatch it gave
Was the one not to be forgotten
The crawls she made were remarkable
The battle she fought was tough
The dates, the event is still in my head.

I remember the last scent she smelled was the scent of my cologne
The last voice she heard was my deep voice
The last hand she held was my tiny rough hand holding her tightly
After the battle that left her eyes widely open.