by Randy Draper

Created on: February 20, 2010   Last Updated: February 21, 2010

Today, I’ve been quiet

I’ve not uttered a word

To no one, not a soul

What good would words do

In the wake of such news

Devastating news indeed

That I’m a host to this fatal disease

With haste, prepare my coffin and burial

For my death is certain

Greater men than myself have fallen

At the hands of my adversary

I stand not the slimmest of chances, even

For mighty kings have been the objects of morning dining for this… thing

I won't waste my time seeking solace or comfort

There are none to be had

Only, the consolation the illness itself offers its victims in jest

Which of course are false

Then again lies are the root cause of this my illness

Pride 

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