I’m not ready to die, so set those shovels aside and
get those vulchers off my back. I got a
lot of fight left in me. Life is a
struggle, a seemingly never-ending series of struggles, but I won’t break
easily. When I’m broken, I’m sharp to
the touch. The demons that haunt me will
return to hell bloodied. Besides, I can
still outrun them. Black care rarely sits behind a rider whose pace is fast enough,
wrote TR. You can take everything from
me, and I know you will. Yet I’m not
going without a fight. I shall remain
defiant. I shall resist until the very
end.
