I am the breaths that fill my brittle lungs.
My spirit mingles with spectres of past,
the translucent ghosts of forming desire,
and those that pace inside the human cast.
Fumbles and faililngs crack this container,
spill quick the spirits, inspirations escape
my mind and I am left a hollow hull.
My aspirations slump and lose their shape.
Often friends and future hopes catch my breath
and through these brittle lips this song is sung.
Every lung contains a breath of air,
soaring, spinning among our brittle lungs.