The 4th

If chemo worked,
Where would faith go?
Pain would end.
Cancers wouldn’t grow.

Love might work
To cast hope even now,
Shining like a diadem
On a mortal brow.

Death keeps both
Faith and love in check,
With a noose
Around the neck.

Time to stop
Fighting the good fight;
And gracefully,
Walk into night.

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