Who Am I?

I am death.
Impetuous disease.
The blood of thousands foregone
course through my veins.
I see only the pity of nations,
the sorrow of the world,
and the sadness of man.
My skin never feels
the warmth of the sun.
Nor do my eyes see
the light of day.
There is only blackness before me,
and my soul yearns for freedom.

by Colin Roberts
1989