Wearied by this gnawing at my mind,
I am holding onto memories like treasure.
The chain of disease grows link by link,
Forging ahead, pushing, pulling, still hoping.
Draining the strength from my body,
So tired, battling day after day.
Pulling me into a mire of darkness,
Looking for hope, strength, light.
Fear wrapping its fingers around me,
The cold wet grip that tightens and takes your breath,
Like a snake capturing its prey.
A small spark still lingers, still exists,
In the darkness a light begins to grow.
To believe, to hope, to know,
That there is a chance.
A note about this poem,
My husband was diagnosed in January 2012 with non small cell lung cancer stage 3. It has been a tremendous battle so far and what he has endured this far is beyond belief. He has lost almost 80 pounds, he was not a big man, and can no longer eat or drink. So this poem is written from his perspective. To those with cancer, you are my hero. What you go through is horrendous. Never mind the disease, the treatments alone are torture and those are supposed to help you get better. It is a journey not for the weak.