Cancer

He was cancer.

Stealthily invading the spaces within
Growing like a bad habit
Until one morning; the face fell off
The gangrene had spread too far

Death was about time.

And then at the dawn of a usual dusk
He bled from the nose and the mouth
The eyes turned crimson as he choked for breath
His maligned lungs had crumbled

Cancer had killed cancer.
Could death do death justice though?