While a stone is impenetrable, it has no heart. It can be showered with abuse showing no mark, yet it will break.
I am not a warrior. There is nothing to fight, just a morass. I step, get stuck, step again. Then I lie down and cry, sinking deeper.
I cannot fight. There is nothing to fight. I just pull at air, expel it and pull again. I only do that because my brain commands it. I live and live and live, waiting for the line between knowing and not knowing. How long before I forget Chris? After my brain has turned to stone, I will no longer have to pull in that air. I will finally be dead. Chris will not die just yet. His brothers will give him life, while remembering his death,
The Downward Slope 