The life given,
so dependent upon wild factors;
life without the air I breathe
is death that hovers near to me.
Fragile and short,
life is an odd gift.
Full of tests bound for failure,
full of bodily pains and emotional heartaches uncounted.
It makes me wonder,
was there another option?
Did those of us who have breathed Earth’s air have a choice?
What else could there be if not what we have?
Perhaps our struggle against death is our other failure.
Fear of the end,
of the darkness we assume exists.
If not for life, we might actually be living.
Inspiration: Magpie’s Picture Prompt #269