Of Air

This air that I breathe

Has the breath of something

fascinating I saw

In these brilliant flames of the self

Transcending into fascination­–

 

The air breathes in air– 

Life itself 

Seems like some distant airs of paradise,

Filled with more airs, 

Albeit sour and dry.


These breathable and unbreathable 

Airs of life

Transcend and begin to drain

The airs of mine.

 

The destiny that drives me down

Doesn’t seem to press this air–

Of sombre dryness and brisky briskness–

Embracing forth the idea of the self.

 

Yet but now that you are gone,

Life doesn’t seem like this

Breath of air that I breathe–

But why?

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