I don’t know how to dispel the fear threatening to swallow up my insides. But I will get through this. I’ll refrain from weeping and lamenting like a pathetic excuse of a weakling. 

No, I’ll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee,

Not untwist – slack they may be – these last strands of man

In me ór, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;

Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.