Why Am I Here?

by Bialywhoos

A poem I wrote for school that was inspired by Les Miz. Marius's thoughts before singing Empty Chairs at Empty Tables. This is my first shot at poetry in a few years, too, so it might not be that good.

Why Am I Here?

Why am I here?

Why do I live?

Their blood,

It is but a river,

Gushing through the fields,

The meadows,

The streets.

Red,

Scarlet red.

Burning,

Burning like the flames of Hell,

And it will never be dammed.

But my blood?

It gushes through my veins,

Letting me see,

But see no one.

Letting me hear,

But hear no one.

So why am I here?

Why do I live?