Life goes on

Having treatment, my life is fossilised. Everyone else's life progresses, goes forward. I just watch as life goes on for everybody except me. I can't paint, where's my muse? Perhaps, one day when this is all over I shall regain my emotional strength as well as my physical strength and pick up my brushes once more. This life is all consuming, all powerful. Who can believe what is going on? Not I, it all feels like a dream. I can't believe what's going on. Strange. But there is a reason, something, someone will learn from all this. So gaze up to the stars and make a wish. Perhaps it'll come true. Hope so.