The Struggler
The sandals on his feet grow heavy as he forges his route through the wind , his body broken and in pain begs for him to stop , but regardless his soul compels him to move forwards . He darts his eyes left to right trying to look past the rain in desperation but there is nothing to be seen . There is nothing but himself and the ground beneath him , and the grey sky extending its grasp out to the heavens like vines on a wall .
He is truly alone .
And alone he will always be , propelled solely by his resilience and determination , reeking of blood and hunger and tears , yet he continues . He continues through droughts , with enough heat for the ground to crumble like old clay beneath his feet , continuing through snow , cold enough to shatter bones as if they were glass . He does not look back , not once . And at times , The Struggler falls to his knees , looking at the barren landscape presented to him and asks himself whether he has the will to go on ; his questions are answered by his body , which picks itself up and drives forwards .
Even though The Struggler has endured so much suffering and pain , he has also seen many miracles . The Struggler has seen rivers , coursing their way through luscious green forests , descending into the valley below filled to the brim with flowers , fruits , and life . Caves , brimming with glowing rock and patterns that dance with the whistling of the sky . But most importantly he has seen life , freedom beyond interpretation , life so easily taken away but so easily given that one might consider it invaluable . And knowing this , he walks with a little more hope .
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