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The Finish Line
The weight of the sun lies upon my shoulders,
Along with the weight of my burden,
The sun glares down at me showing off its rays,
I look away to avoid it, but its presence overwhelms.
I stand in the middle of a desert,
Where dryness has conquered the world,
Only except for a small, round puddle,
A puddle of sweat and salty teardrops.
The sun burns hotter,
But the needle travels slower,
I force my feet to step forward,
But my puddle only grows larger.
More eager than a desert fox for its prey,
My eyes instinctively scan around,
Only to find bleeding cactuses
That have also pierced my heart.
At my continuous failures and falls,
The sun teases me from far above,
Shooting balls of fire and misery,
It blinds my eyes and goal.
But I shake the sand off my feet,
And the sweat off my neck,
With the burden off my shoulders,
I erase the sun’s presence in my path.
I challenge a duel against the sandstorm,
To find the oasis in the desert,
Because my passion for reaching the end,
Burns more passionately than the sun.
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