Each day is a gift and not a given right.

Each day is another day we choose to perservere,

rolling through the motions,

never truly clear.

For what are we searching for, on our climb up on these tiers?

as we reach for higher, we slowly pile

suffocating in our fears.

We watch time pass us with each orbit of the sphere,

sitting helplessly, waiting for a miracle

to magically appear.

We refuse to accept that virtue is our spear,

instead falling mindlessly for temptations

like a puppeteer.

Will this distained fortune ever disappear?

only if we wake up

to finally switch

willingly into


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