Apr. 23rd, 2009

starlady: (the last enemy)
It's Shakespeare's birthday (observed), and still Poetry Month. Thus: 

Since brass, nor stone, nor earth, nor boundless sea,
But sad mortality o'er-sways their power,
How with this rage shall beauty hold a plea,
Whose action is no stronger than a flower?
O how shall summer's honey breath hold out
Against the wrackful siege of batt'ring days
When rocks impregnable are not so stout,
Nor gates of steel so strong, but time decays?
O fearful meditation! Where, alack,
Shall time's best jewel from time's chest lie hid?
Or what strong hand can hold his swift foot back,
Or who his spoil o'er beauty can forbid?
     O none, unless this miracle have might:
     That in black ink my love may still shine bright.

     --William Shakespeare, Sonnets, 65
This article, to segue implicitly, presents some hard (and unpleasant) facts about the reality of cancer.