“I’m not afraid of being dead. I’m just afraid of what you might have to go through to get there.”

― Pamela Bone

“Thin, I think, that fabric between realities. Maybe minds aren’t lost. Maybe they just slip through and find a different place to wander.”

― C.J. Tudor

Oh, the brain, the brain, the brain, the final frontier of mankind

For the greatest challenge there is, is to know our own mind

And why it is that in some, time takes such a toll

That slowly erases, the ones we used to know

For as we all age, the number of cells in our brain dwindle

It happens on the edge, where nature and nurture intermingle

If the pace is too quick, we call it disease

And give it a name, based on the symptoms we perceive

These names that we have, are of the men who first described

The pattern of dysfunction, we now recognize

As time went on, each name was defined

And examined on autopsy, to be further refined

Yet in spite our best efforts, these diseases still surge

Eluding every single one, of our attempts to purge

Each time that we think, we have made up some ground

We end a little more distraught, when no cure is to be found

And still we don’t know, what to make of the mess

We find when we look inside, what the dead have us left

Strands of protein, blobs of lipid, and remnants of organelle

Tangled in lumps and clumps, encased in a protective shell

What are we to make, of our divisive definitions?

All based on dead brains, riddled with attrition

What lies underneath, the hypotheses we sow?

What therapies await, if only we knew where to go?

This puzzle has eluded, all that have tried

Leaving no solace yet, for all that have cried

Perhaps it is because, the pieces of the puzzle we seek

Are not part of one puzzle, we could ever complete

For there are lessons out there, from other fields we can use

Tales of chronic diseases, we managed to subdue

Where some time ago, they planted the seeds

That allowed for the precision, each patient desperately needs

This journey before us, is riddled with hurdles

And the path to translation, moves slower than turtles

Indeed there are times, when all progress seems hopeless

As society was not designed, to tackle such an atrocious diagnosis

But no matter how daunting, we must not get discouraged

Remembering all those before, that had shown so much courage

To begin we must embrace, the reality at times neglected

That no one drug can cure, all those affected

And remember that the labels, that gave us targets to pursue

Are but stories themselves, that often obscure what is true

The question we must now ask, is not how to treat disease

But how best to help, each individual in need

For what matters is not, which hypothesis is right

But how to help those, struggling in this fight

So that one day, with all stakeholders gathered

We will finally rejoice, in tales of lives lived happily ever-after

Image: The Adam-eve Delusion by Darwin Leon