Living Beyond the Diagnosis

In a quiet place, beneath a sky that never sleeps,
There lived a soul, strong and free, yet caught in the grip of a cruel disease.
MSA, they called it—a demon without mercy,
A shadow that crept into life, stealing joy, leaving pain.

This soul, once vibrant, full of light and laughter,
Now faced the demon, relentless in its pursuit.
Each day, the body weakened, trembled, betrayed by limbs that once danced,
But within, the fire burned brighter, refusing to be extinguished.

MSA is an undefeated beast, claiming victory after victory,
Leaving behind only echoes of strength, whispers of what was.
Yet this soul, though battered, will never give in, never succumb,
For deep within the heart, a battle raged, one of will and defiance.

“I see you, MSA,” the soul would whisper in the dark of night,
As the demon tightened its hold, “But you do not scare me.”
The future was a cruel promise—of pain, of slow decay,
But this soul was a warrior, fighting not for a cure, but for dignity, for self.

Each morning brought new challenges, new struggles to bear,
But with each breath, the soul vowed to stand, to rise, to push back.
MSA may steal the voice, the strength, the ease of movement,
But it would not steal the spirit, the heart that beats with courage.

“I may fall,” the soul would say, “But I will rise”
And rise it did, every time, against the odds, against the pain.
The demon was strong, undefeated, with its grip of steel,
But this soul was stronger still, for in every defeat, they found a new reason to fight.

Friends and loved ones watched, helpless but inspired,
By a courage that refused to be snuffed out, even as the body waned.
MSA is a monster, a frightening foe,
But the soul facing it is a force of nature, a storm of will.

In the end, MSA comes for the body, as everyone knew it would,
But the soul—oh, the soul remains untouched, undefeated.
For MSA could come for life, but it will not take the spirit,
And in that, the soul finds victory, even in the specter of death.

So, to the demon that lurks in the shadows, that claims with cold hands,
The soul speaks with finality, with the strength of all who’ve fought:
“Fuck you, MSA. You may relentlessly come for my body, but you’ll never have me.”
And with those words, the soul rises, free, beyond the demon’s reach.

In this place beneath the sleepless sky,
The story of the undefeated soul lives on,
A testament to the power of will,
And the fire that burns even when the body fails.
For in reality, it is not the disease that defines us,
But the fight we bring, the spirit we carry,
In the face of a frightening foe.

#FuckMSA

~Coach~