I do not fight my fatal malady;
awake each morn, and live the day anew.
I have it; my cancer won't have me.
No battleground, no carnage to be seen,
my gentle Spirit bears my burden through.
I do not fight my fatal malady.
No cringing, no beseeching God, "Why me?"
In truth, I'd rather it be me than you.
I have it; my cancer won't have me.
Of course, I wish no one at all would be
in suffering. Someday, I pray that's true.
I do not fight my fatal malady.
Should I live long enough that I might see
the cure the doctors say is coming due,
I'll have it. The cancer won't have me.
When death will win its meager victory
the door will open. Gladly, I'll pass through.
I do not fight my fatal malady.
I have it; the cancer won't have me.
In my case, stalemate means I win. :)
So many concerned friends keep asking if I'm all right, and tell me to keep on fighting. It puzzles me, for the above reasons. There is no fight. Accept, adapt, and move on.