Cure was simply not written in my destiny, even though I tried remedies to the utmost limit of my ability.

This couplet captures that quiet, heartbreaking moment when you realize you gave something your absolute all, yet the ending was never yours to write. By framing his emotional pain as an incurable illness, the poet gently defends his effort—he took every medicine and exhausted every remedy within his human power. There is no bitter complaint here, just a graceful and poignant surrender to fate.