Eternal Spirit

My head is like a beehive, my heart, a bird trapped in the cage of my chest. It wants the speed of a flying bullet, the one fired off by the mind — a murderer. My arms, like levers, have grown tired, my legs keep walking on out of habit. My nerves are a shield of stainless steel, hardened in a hundred thousand skirmishes. For the battle between two worlds — the one that's mine, and the other one, outside — I am the valley lying between the mountains. I don't want anyone to find me. My jaw muscles clench along my cheekbones. My will blindly leads me toward victory. I sink my teeth into life like a shark, completely forgetting about lunch. I'm incapable of satisfying this hunger gnawing away at my soul, day after day. As long as I feel it — I'm young. When I grow old, I'll dock at the shore. Let the years wear away at this body, making it harder to conquer new ground. My spirit is eternal and wants to get to work. All in all — mostly good, with a bit of mischief thrown in.