Platitudes of Suffering
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For it is only in death, that we shall lay down our Labors, our Arms. And only then shall we say, “Why yes, Sir! I am okay.”
Until then, Sir, ask me not how I am. For does breath not still shake my body? Does my mind not still delight you? So, Sir, ask me not how I am.
I am alive, yet. And so my choice is made.
Platitudes of suffering serve no man.