The Drained One -- a Poem

(September 2023 note: I am no longer handicapped. I explained why in this article).

(Philosocom's Subcategory On Fatigue and Exhaustion)

Death, among the living,

Death, within the living,

Is difficult to see,

Difficult to comprehend.

Only a Follower of a Drained One can,

Understand it better than most.

I, the Drained One,

Truth be told,

Have an illness within me,

Non-describable, potentially incurable.

A young age, and yet,

An old-like body,

Difficult to function,

Far from the External World.

I, a Drained One,

Am not sad, nor depressed,

Nor beyond,

And am far from lonely.

I am just,

Exhausted,

-- my greatest disability.

Exhaustion,

Far from the comprehension of an average Joe.

The Drain follows me whenever I go,

Always in the background, awaits to ambush,

And leave me partially-paralyzed.

Paralysis that blocks many actions.

It is not rare,

It is like the occasion

Of the rising and setting sun.

I watch the other ships in the sea,

Reach destinations I thought I too am capable,

Only to realize,

I do not,

For I lack the energy,

I once thought I had.

Moving, speaking, discussing, trying remembering,

It is that big.

I am content of my life, my craft,

Striving for optimism, for it is practical.

It is just,

That I am drained,

By the years-long stress,

To be Good,

In any of which I do,

As I was taught,

By my former masters, former guides.

I do not resent, nor hate.

Am just want,

To serve my purpose,

To serve those who have the will,

And the appreciation.

Beyond that, I see no reason.

By handicap, By reasons of which

I do not fully understand,.

I am, thus,

the Drained One,

Currently,

Or,

Permanently.

Death, among the living,

Death, within the living,

I am who is in between,

And I am alive.