what do you put down when the work calls to you, when it scratches at the edge of your conscience, desperate - what thread that keeps you balanced do you let fall in hope of a success threatening to unravel all you have crafted
Tag: work
Work
when my reckoning comes these days won't matter (if they ever did), that I pushed, stretched to my limits and beyond instead of taking in a fiery sunset won't be worthy of a footnote in the annals of time, so why put myself through such grueling paces: it's what I watched, it's what I know, it's how I sleep at night, I don't know how to stop so I drive on another plough-house in the field