Life is a bullet

As I stand here in the war-torn field we call life, I feel a bullet tear through my chest. The bullet ruthlessly making its way through my chest, tearing every fiber it comes across. As the bullet finishes its work, I start to fall toward the ground. As I fall towards the ground, I realize what all I have done, what I can still do. I finish my trip to the ground; I hit it hard with a sickening thud. I lay there looking up to the sky, wondering if I will survive the punishment that life has given me. I know that I will, because an unknown force drives me. It feels that an invisible force is pushing me so. As I sit there I find new strength and I get up off of the ground, covered with a deep tone of crimson. But I push on and fight, and live another day.