Braver people, much braver than I

Have long since held their existential right
To do as they see fit, and whatever needs to be done.
To that end, they have undergone a process of identity
forging,
One which I did not undergo.
I am a half man, disabled, unresolved,
Existing not by prerogative but by grace,
Depending on the waves of others,
To reach that shore of safety.
Death will not find me, since he is not searching for me.
One who has no taste for life, is bitter
In death - not to the liking of a taster accustomed
,To the fine exquisite tastes of leaders, philosophers
lovers,
All those demented with the flare for life.
What a disease it is, what a magnificent illness.
I'm cured of life, free from the fever that eats
.Away at the bones of those who fear death