Life That Bloomed Between Rocks

A flower pushes through a crack at the edge of a rock. Its roots have taken firm hold and do not waver. No matter how harsh the environment, life blossoms bright and beautiful, before inevitably fading away. Am I crying? Perhaps the desperate struggle to live is not something ugly, but something profoundly beautiful. Do I pity this flower... or do I long to be like it? I want to live. Truly, I want to live. For no grand reason at all—so long as I can keep breathing, I want to live. - An infected who has lost their will