Platitudes of Suffering

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.