The best diseases come from without knowing what it can do to the body. It never shows the right symptoms let alone it presents itself in a fraudulent manner. This is the riddled body after all and that is what determines the survival of the fittest. To those who seek the cure right away are the ones who claim to know when the next attack will take place while to those who protect themselves from the eminent threat they are the unsung heroes that will take millions to rebuild it from the ground up. This is why they exist- to eradicate and to fumigate. Lo and behold, the automatons of this world's creation. The impending Death and the encroaching Disease that will decay our very mortal caskets we call bodies. For what tastes better than the expression of love and death when they are perfectly meant to be together. Isn't that how love is often made, when we die and create something in the process? For what is more poetic than romance between two lovers that are meant to be together when they chase around those who would care for them. This is not your love story meant of the heart, this is where your conscience will be the disease and the love you have is the death of it.