When the sepsis struck speckled

Unintended consequences

Arose in my mind

In  the tangling of time:

the rhythm in my head

of a feeling of dread.

In time to pull me round

like a full washing line

of antibiotics

on a windy-day-by-the-sea

then slinking off 

with Mr Delirium, he's off with his head,

an alternate reality, frightened and nearly dead.

I turn and turn to face me

then stutteringly stare away,

into a fog, that twists in the mist.

And all the love i have is hit

or  miss.

as I stumble from place to place

from heaven into hell,

tangled like the detrius

of a wind-blown face

of the clanging of a bell

on the leavings of the trees.

In this storm of time

nothing is still

nothing is mine.

 

This version's in rhyme.