The Beast has been stalking me for years,
waiting, waiting, poking and testing from time to time.
The Beast never sleeps; is always waiting
to pounce, stealthily following me everywhere.
The Beast became impatient, toying with me
yet not revealing itself....yet.
The Beast, tired of teasing, pounced!
just when I thought myself safe.
The Beast unleashed its fury,
doing as much damage as possible.
The Beast watched as I struggled
to see, to walk, to understand.
The Beast had to be tamed, made to go away
and only the strongest weapon would do.
The Beast retreated, slowly at first
but retreated none the less.
The Beast doesn't know that I cannot be defeated
by its attacks. I am not afraid of this Beast.
This Beast whose name is...
Multiple Sclerosis.
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