I had no fervor in life. Life seemed to me a way to flounder around from place to place. I was a freight, and I carried life around with me.

Someone once told me, to feed the fire! But I have hardly any embers left in me, the life burning the fire away.

For I search for things to be fluent in, to pass the time. All the time wondering if this was all there was.

But something in me tells me to carry on. For if life won't let me live, then I'll live in spite of life.

(Wc: 99 words)