State of the Art

Standing there in golden skin,
trying not to rot again,
I see your heart within your core,
beating hot with rotten sore.

I see the sore has grown in size,
I see it clear within your eyes;
your core is melting, shutting down,
but all the while, you still frown.

Your hands are quaking,
your resolve is weakening,
and all your senses are awakening.

I see the man you truly are,
I see what really hides within your heart.