20 doors were placed in front of me, without knowing what was behind them, until I moved my feet a few steps to look for each, but my efforts just faded as I realized it was all locked and needed for keys. I set my eyes to glance itself around in this hallow room filled with dust, and I can't see nothing merely a locked doors looking intensive. I tried to exert great physical force—with my feet, I struck it out—the door is not easy to stoop only to devise the vigor of lacking my physical and mental vitality. I rest as my buttocks touches the wall, and my haunch commit to the ground hoping to form profound aspirations to escape the existence of being subdued, yet nothing is definite with the earthly state of never-ending tribulations—there is no escape—it has an existing door, but to go off is not incontestably.
© bebas