Time

Dr's say my time is limited. I have a rare an incurable disease one they know very little about. All attempts at curing it has proved futile. And now they say we wait. There is nothing further we can do.

I draw the curtains and I let the darkness surround me enveloping me, curling up under a warm duvet for even though it is summer outside, it is winter in here. And even the feathers of the duvet cant provide warmth or comfort from the cold.

I try to cry but my tearducts wont cooperate. I feel like the rain of a winter that has not yet come is soaking my clothes, drenching my face, drowning my soul.

Courage, hope, positivity? what is that? it sounds like a cliche from a book someone wrote who has never been challenged, not like this.

I have lost my health and am slowly loosing my hope. For what is hope this word we seek when the darkness envelopes us. Is it that bit of sun streaming through the slits of the blinds, is it that part of our soul that wont let us crawl further under the duvet, or does this word hope paralyze us.

Does the thought that it all may not be so bad, not conjure up images that it could be okay. Does that thought not strike more fear than the acceptance that it is really so bad. Does that thought not make one then understand the meaning of hope and not be so paralyzed by it?

And like the tide at sea my Imaan begins to ebb and flow between the belief that it may get better to the acceptance that it may not. A friend once told me "we only have as long as we are allowed" So no sooner, so no later will my time be than what has been allowed for me.

But yet I remain enveloped by the darkness not wanting the sun to stream in. Not yet...