Another lovely poem I have created

Painful breaths and weak lungs.
Sickness has employed. This is what I've become.
I'm exhausted, supressed, and torn down.
It's time to remove my unyielding crown.
Words won't do justice, there's no way to describe.
I could never express exactly how I feel inside.
Breathe in. Breathe out. Continue the rhythm.
To me, it's mucus, aches, and unfufillness that collision.
Death surrounds me. I am familiar with the gruesome words,
"Breathe easy" and "Rest in peace."  Another passing of a young one has occured.
I taste the bitter infection occupying my tongue.
There's an army that favors the invalidation of my lungs.
The tiny monsters dedicate to seize control and become engrossed.
I have offically become the unwilling host.
Scar tissue, battered organs, and irreversable mutilation.
I suppose this disease would appreciate a standing ovation.
He craves my attention, and has no understanding of the word forfeit.
My deterioration has become a way of his self rewarding.
They say, "Time will heal all wounds,"
but in this case, time means more impairment has consumed.
Yes, I am exceptionally grateful to be alive and aging more,
but I also desire a breath that strive won't account for.
My body lacks the proper needs for survival.
The results are nothing short of vile.
I have gone through hell and back, time and time again.
There have been moments of close surrender, but I will keep fighting until I win.
But, I guess in a way, you could say that I have already won.
Despite my adversities, hope, strength, and positivity are always brought upon.
This fight can feel grueling and beyond the bounds of possible,
but to survive through this much, and give in with defeat, would be highly implausable.
I'm here to live, inspire, love, and obtain victory.
I will leave behind me a legacy, that will never diminish with history.