Under the Falling Sky

I see the light shining in the distance, a beacon I know I’ll never reach. When the sky falls, when it crumbles, it crushes me too, leaving me helpless and weary of the endless descent. I was already rising, already fighting to stand, but now I’m exhausted—resigned to a life that demands too much, offers too little. Am I ungrateful for this existence, for the chaos and trials that I must navigate? I’m weary of the sky perpetually crashing down upon me. How am I to lift the sky when I can barely lift myself? The darkness envelops me, and that distant light remains forever out of reach. So if I give up, don’t be angry, and please, don’t cry. I was never meant to bask in that light. Instead, put on a smile, shine as brightly as you can—because if you crack, if you falter, then you’ve failed in all you were meant to do. But why, why won’t the sky stop falling on me?