Run, run, run, until your legs get tired,
Until you fall down,
Until you pass out, 
Or until you give up.  
No matter your speed or endurance or concentration, 
The same things eventually pile up,
And crash land onto your shoulders. 
There’s no point in discussing it, 
Because you're out of breath ,
Repeating the same things over and over,
It never makes a difference. 
Once you reach the point of restlessness,
It comes back  soon enough, 
Crushing the energy you have left, 
And weakening the power remaining in your legs.
No matter the type of running shoes you have, 
The soles continue to wear, 
And maybe that’s your que:
It’s time to stop running. 
Maybe after the time-and-time again failed attempts of getting away, 
It was all a sign,
To make you never want to leave, 
Or maybe that’s the motivation.
After all, 
Once you leave yourself on the ground
After you fall, 
You just become a prisoner of your own mind.
The thoughts that haunt you,
And probe into your deepest thoughts,
Make it all seem as if, 
There is nothing to stabilize your soul.
They’re all still there in the back of your mind;
Slamming against the steel bars that enclose you,
But that was never the solution, 
There never was a solution. 
You cry for help, 
But you can’t make a sound;
People pretend not to hear anything anyways,
You’re all on your own to face the brutal reality.
You slowly find the strength to get up,
You slip your hand through the steel enclosure, 
Reaching out into the open atmosphere, 
The sense of relief sweeping over your body. 
And you’re free; with your senses alive like they’ve never been,
The air smells sweeter, 
The grass seems to be sprouting beautiful flowers,
Sprinkled with delicate dew.
You can feel the crisp wind graze your back,
And your hair dances gently in the breeze;
In this very moment,
Your eyes shut and become overwhelmed with serenity.
It is then the ground begins to shake,
And all too quickly, 
Your world seems to be set off its equilibrium,
Surprise, surprise.
The sweet and longed for feelings, 
Begin to disappear once again, 
But you appreciate the opportunity to bask in them, 
And the nostalgia sticks with you.
As you reopen your eyes,
The world has a cloudier,
Gloomier appearance to it; 
Maybe you should have left your eyes closed.
So caught up in the moment,
Your instincts are abandoned,
And just for a split second,
You forget to run. 
After a while,
It has become a choice,
To stand your ground,
You don’t want to run anymore.
With the earth still quaking,
You find a way to remain still, 
Sensing the monsters coming up behind you,
You await the face-to-face confrontation. 
And right when all hope is lost,
The crisp air you once knew, 
Blows on the back of your neck,
Jolting you toward the open space ahead of you. 
To catch yourself, 
You put your foot down, 
Then the next,
Until it becomes a continuous pattern of rhythmic footsteps.
You run on the path ahead, 
Tilting left and right, 
Until you find your balance, 
Running down the pathway shaped by the wind. 
Running is no longer the struggle,
But it becomes the battle;
You don’t run to avoid the monsters behind you,
You run to make sure they never catch up.
This is why you choose to run,
This is why the pain doesn’t bother you, 
Because you keep going, 
And you choose not to stop. 
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