The write of three 3: The Author

I do not know how long I shall write
Neither do I know how short will it be.
Life is short, the road too long.

Time is fleeting, the string of life fragile against the storm.
But we must all toil, before our last breath ends.

To form ideas, ask questions, tell the one truth,
to pray and praise God for his gifts.
Before we are laid to for a moment’s rest in the grave.

So we write and work, and die then comes the day of judgment.
And when at times we get tired of writing and working
It is not right to continue the task at hand
For who, if I may ask, can benefit from the wearisome.
So we lay aside all activity and lay in repose our body even for a short time.


Quote:
The only thing I was fit for was to be a writer, and this notion rested solely on my suspicion that I would never be fit for real work, and that writing didn't require any. -Russel Baker