The hidden war

I lie here silently, though I am screaming in pain

I am somewhere between life and death,

The secret world that few men know.

My family doesn’t know I live here,

A few friends do, those who share this terrible burden

Those comrades who fight against the invisible enemy with me

Some days I long to give up my sword, give up the battle, and find peace,

But I know I can’t.

I have to keep fighting.

I fight with old weapons- opium, sedatives, and the like

Though man has accomplished a great deal, we still fight pain like our ancestors did.

And so I fight with new weapons too- weapons forged of wire, and metal and implanted in my skull.

I fight with friends, and with enemies, and with friends who become enemies

The stalwart and true physicians fight with me,

While other turn their backs telling me that “nothing can be done”, or “it is imaginary” or even tell me that the medicines that fight the pain shouldn’t be allowed for me.

I hear the same from friend and family- the terrible voices whispering to me that “I will not get well,” and that “the medicine is bad” and these whispers cause despair.

How can I live in this dichotomy?

What is the balance between medicine and poison?

And please, if you know, tell me what to do.

Yet, it is the still small voice telling me what is right for me-

The voice tells me to keep fighting, to find a way for me- and that this may not be the way of others, but I must walk my own.

And that still small voice comes from other fighters of pain, from true friends, and bonds forged only in combat.

And so I fight with the oldest of weapons-prayer, and I cling to the cross that conquered death, and suddenly I realize that the still, small voice comes through the ages, and He urges me on, giving me strength and will, taking away some of the pain, some of the torture and telling me that I am precious and young, and a warrior.

And that, one day, I will be free of the pain and rise, triumphant to life here or life above, free from pain and hell, shining with life, though I may be scarred, I will live.