Craving The Grave

Years of dreading that new illness creeping around this mortal world. One night I began to shiver violently.
Could it be that my family and I have finally succumbed to this modern-day plague?
A test that reveals the terrible truth. The tentacled beasts are coursing through our veins making themselves at home.
I worry about dying with lungs full of fluid, a frightful death out of my control. Yet, I feel the calling of the grave, inviting me to rest in peace at long last, is the grey tomb not what I have craved for so long?
Should I fight the craving of the grave, that calls to me like heroine to an addict or fight to live a life that is mirrored every day with no meaning or purpose? Mundane. Without cause, without meaning.
Yet I want to end on my terms, so I fight with vitamins and rest. I get better more rapidly than I could have thought, denying my craving for the grave, denying the blessed rest that I have craved for so long.
Fighting the craving of the grave, so tired, rest calling. Yet, we fight the endless fight and we forget, Memento Mori.