Everyday, the knife pierced into my skin.
Deeper and deeper.
I try to work through it, every time,
but it always wins.
The pain overtakes my entire soul.
Diminishing me limb after limb.
Now I am nothing but a ghost.
A ghost that still lives.
I will work through the pain, though.
I will never stop, even if it is for a second.
That way, my goal will be achieved.
My goal of fulfilling my passion.
I think of life as a poem, like this one.
With only four versus, four obligations, four rules.
Desires, gifts, perseverance, and enjoying the hard work.
Embracing the pain.
Where did I go wrong?