By: RecentIy03~

 Nobody said it would be easy
 to travel with a heavy heart,
 to bear the weight of the world
 like a Titan or a Greek god,
 hunched over with a hulking globe
 cartoonishly balanced on your back,
 to die for the sins
 of people whom you’ve never met,
 healing sickly children
 with nothing more than a wink,
 turning blood into wine
 on a daily basis like it’s a chore.
 Each morning waking
 from the escape of dreams
 to re-enter this realm of struggle,
 jailed in flesh and bones,
 four billion gypsy souls
 rising like phoenixes
 from the dust of the past,
 through the golden dawn
 and into each day anew,
 eternally questioning the way the wheel turns
 and why we’re all really here,
 as if somehow managing to remember dying
 while simultaneously forgetting to live.