Grim Reaper Scion Donned As Nodule On Lung

Grim reaper scion donned as nodule on lung... Lodged squarely upon corporeal property (i.e. necessary soft tissue) of Amelie Beth Harris-McGeehan mine eldest sister, when medical technician informed aforementioned unpleasant tidings earlier today February 25th. Utmost grievousness grips analogous to invisible strong hands strangulating "I can't breathe" while grappling trying to process apocalyptic forebodings (impinging on mine corporeal fifty plus shades of gray matter). Impossible mission (insync with absent impetus), thus renders feeble attempt crafting poem, yet unbridled (hyperbole employed to accentuate emotion) regarding brotherly love upon being informed most unpleasant tidings. Laughter and sunshine eradicated in one fell swoop absolute zero peace of mind until fortune teller peers into crystal ball and invokes divine intervention whereby life, liberty and pursuit of happiness buffets thee along countless additional Earth orbits around the sun granted second lease on life. Auspicious signs of early birds taking wing (in an effort to feast upon diet of worms) to celebrate advent of Spring will be uber twittering glad tidings of your clean bill of health ditto chattering squirrels buzzfeeding unearthed soil, mushrooms and animal bones, while yours truly delights reading within partially secluded outside triangulated nook, (a favorite alcove of mine) to bask under sheltering sky feeling restoration of vitality courtesy Herculean strength of Mister Sun's powerful solar rays. PostScript: my humblest apology if word first choice constituting title caused undue agitation, cuz only genuine expression courtesy unwavering optimism insync with sixth sense intended to trumpet Taj Mahal high hope buoying your body, mind, and spirit triage.