I Choose Not To Give Up

Verily, I am fortified. Verily, I contend with unrelenting vigor. The adversary hath assailed me manifold in the ethereal realm, in the citadel of my mind, and in the tabernacle of flesh. He descended as nocturnal susurrations, as portals violently occluded in the diurnal light, as infirmity that intimately acquainted itself with my nomenclature, as perfidy cloaked in countenances once beloved. Yet I am an overcomer. I am a conqueror. I am a chevalier tempered in furnaces ordained for my annihilation. My warfare commenced not at the dawning of this day. My battle cry was birthed in chambers devoid of acclamation, in epochs wherein hope was a specie beyond my penurious grasp. At a juncture I contended unto my terminal exhalation, pulmonary reservoirs vacated, patellae lacerated, faith suspended by a filament nevertheless I endure. For the pneuma within me is on loan from the Artificer who vocalized cosmos into existence, and that pneuma does not capitulate at the mandate of perdition. The adversary endeavored to immobilize me, endeavored to interdict my miracle, endeavored to inter my benedictions prematurely. He dispatched procrastination as a dungeon, dispatched ignomin