Tuesday, November 3, 2009


If I wait
For my hope to return
I will lack the time to carve out a future,
and I will curse the present.
So even with despair nestled in my skull,
I must prepare
to be born again,
Just as when living
I must prepare to die again.

With the cyclical disease
granting depression and ecstasy,
I die and am born again and again.
I do not reincarnate,
But when my feelings run low
I destroy my life,
I rush myself towards death,
and if I recover
I pull myself together,
I force myself to move towards life.

If I try to understand
why I am this way
and what exactly is wrong,
I will wonder for a lifetime
and I will one day look back
and I will see that my disease has spent my human moment.
I have to move,
I must bring energy to my limbs,
I must force blood into my brain,
I have to restore my soul to my body,
I must make myself hope now and forever.

- Rand

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