Cancer

This is a new interpretation of my song "Cancer". The first release from April 2025 can be found in my playlist "A Thousand Echoes". As long as I’m still here, I keep creating my album – The Cancer Cloud – song by song. This is my gift to my loved ones. A legacy in songs – so that even when I’m no longer here, a part of me will still sing into the silence. 🔗 https://suno.com/playlist/e0a96b29-618c-43a5-bed6-112f4b6633f5 ⚔️🔥⚔️🔥⚔️🔥 My Story Before the Song After losing my brother and walking through the valley of tears my biological family carved into my life, I tried to find something solid again. I searched for light. I needed something new to believe in – something I could do with my own hands. My daughter started kindergarten. And I threw myself into work with everything I had left. Applications. Job ads. Interviews. Pushed doors open with bare hands. It didn't take long before a young company gave me a chance. Part-time at first. But it was enough. Enough to feel like I was breathing again. I loved my work with a kind of hunger – taking it home at night once my daughter slept, throwing my heart into it without holding anything back. I was chasing the feeling of living. Promotion came fast. Department head. Then management. I didn’t need anything more. I was breathing again. Living again. My daughter grew stronger. I grew stronger. The wounds were still there, but they no longer ruled me. I thought: Maybe this is what peace looks like. But life hadn’t even started yet. March 11, 2006. A Saturday like any other. Coffee cooling at my desk. Fingers flying across the keyboard. Until the pain slammed into me – so hard, so deep – I couldn't stand straight. A trip to the emergency room. Diagnosis: pneumonia. Strict bedrest, they said. But rest did nothing. And antibiotics didn’t fix what was broken. X-rays found something they didn’t know how to say. Something darker was growing. Endless tests. Endless waiting. June 14, 2006. They said the word like it was routine. As if it was just another file. But for me, it split the ground open. Diagnosis: Adenocarcinoma of the lung. Lung Cancer. Not distant. Not theoretical. Not a news story. Not someone else’s tragedy. Mine. In my lungs. In the same chest that had finally dared to believe again. The same lungs that had whispered bedtime stories to my daughter, night after night. I didn’t cry at first. I just kept looking at the hospital walls, trying to imagine how much time I had left. But then I saw her face – the one face I couldn’t leave behind. No. Not now. I chose to fight. I chose to stay. July 6, 2006. My 35th birthday. Also the day they wheeled me into surgery. I remember thinking: You won't wake up. This is your ending. I remember seeing my name etched on an imaginary grave. I remember the unbearable weight of leaving everything unfinished. Felt the cold pull of death at my heels. But when afternoon came, My eyes opened. I was still breathing. Alive. The surgery was successful. They removed the middle lobe of my right lung. Weaker, stitched together – but alive. Recovery wasn’t heroic. It was slow, ugly, real. It felt like winning a war nobody else even saw happening. And somehow, everything looked different after that. Something inside me changed forever. I cried over a flower crushed by the roadside. I touched tree bark like it held some secret code for survival. I listened to my daughter’s laughter like it was air itself. Nothing would ever be normal again – but maybe that was a blessing. Maybe seeing how fragile everything was... meant I finally knew how to hold it. I thought it was over. But I didn’t know that cancer doesn’t knock just once. I didn’t know how many storms were still ahead. That nineteen years of storms would claim my name, that cancer would come back again and again. I returned to work. I returned to life. I traveled. I laughed. I dared to be happy. But in 2009, new shadows came. Not cancer this time. Something quieter. Something just as deadly. Panic attacks - coming like knives in the night. Suddenly, I feared death again. Suddenly, every breath was a negotiation. Another war inside my own skin. But that... that is part of the next song. For now, this is my first battle against cancer. Breath by breath. No matter how many times it breaks me. I will rise. And I am still standing. ⚔️🔥⚔️🔥⚔️🔥 I had a desk full of dreams And a heart full of speed When the pain struck Without a knock, without a plea March eleventh, '06 A Saturday disguised as any before Coffee half-cold Papers scattered across the floor Then the pain Sharp. Cruel Sitting, standing, breathing – all wrong A drive to the white halls A place that smelled of plastic and gone No answers. Only wires Fear humming its ancient song Antibiotics through my veins But fever stayed, silence reigned X-rays whispered what lips denied Something hidden, something inside June fourteenth, '06 They spoke the word like cracking stone For them a line – for me unknown Cancer Not for strangers on a screen Not for a tale in a magazine But here, inside my breathing skin I looked at my daughter's face And whispered Not now. I stay. July sixth, '06 Thirty-five candles, no wishes to blow They smiled, said "Happy", but even they know I kissed her drawing, tucked it away Closed my eyes, dared not to stay I saw my name in black and gray But morning cracked the heavy sky And still, I breathe. I am. I try The world spun on, but time stood still Inside my chest, a quiet kill June tried to end my page July stitched it back with silent rage Not perfect Not untouched But standing. Breathing Minute by minute, hope within I wept for weeds by broken roads I touched trees like ancient oaths I heard my daughter laugh and knew This – this – is what you hold onto Each crack in pavement Every broken limb Became a prayer, became a hymn They thought I'd fade I rose stronger Not untouched But carved by thunder Choosing breath Choosing will Choosing fire Burning still I thought it was over I didn’t know That nineteen years of storms would claim my name That cancer would come back again and again Still standing Still storming Still undefeated ✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️ Lyrics and text © 2025 Thousand Tomorrows. All rights reserved. Written from the soul. Echoed through sound. ✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️✒️