When death comes knocking it doesn't just destroy the person it seeks, but all the people that are around that person.

Like a poison flooding your veins, it spreads through their life killing all hopes and dreams of the future.

I'm sat by his bed watching him sleep, having a brief moment from the pain that ravages his body and attacks his soul. I pray silently for a miracle, I would imagine this is the same as many others before me and many after me will do for their loved ones. Silently I plead 'Please don't take my Father'.

To watch a strong, proud man become tiny and frail, nothing more than a scared shell of their former self is cruel. For me and his friends to watch is even crueller. We are unable to stop the cancer spreading through his body or tame the pain that crashes through his very being in waves.

I can only watch on, his only son guarding over his body as he sleeps, willing his soul to fight on.

As he sleeps he mumbles the odd word in his native tongue of Swedish, usually calling out to my mother who passed years ago or begging for the pain to cease.

I soothe him as much as I can the same as he did for me when I was little and id a nightmare and hope in his dreams he will find some kind of comfort.