Relentless...that's what they used to call me, but the body has rebelled.
Unfree to be me, illness overwhelms.

Incessant was my drive--
now, some days I feel barely alive.

No more am I allowed to do the things I want.
Moving slowly, the outdoors taunt.
I longingly look outside and often think
I'm standing on the precipice, teetering treacherously at the brink.

But then I recognize...
many people live without freedom their entire lives,
either bound by a government or some situation in which
they are unable to thrive...

My complaints and self-absorption take an important turn,
reminding me of all I still need to learn.
Life could be over the very next day
so I'm reminded not to waste time producing negative energy
when all I have may, in a flash, go entirely away...

My existence will go up in smoke and thoughts of me fade.
The only thing relentless now will be a growing cloud of nebulousness,
blurring memories of me with its shade.