Too many thoughts they swirl around haunting,
And all of them choking me and leave me gasping Rumination; the steps that were never taken,
of roads that were never traveled,
dreams that went off with the smallest hint of wind
Submission; nimble wings they were,
was it weak dreams or a weaker dreamer?
Paler I am getting, gasping around for a hint of fresh air. Acceptance : seeing for what it is,
too many things we want to be,
too less of a man we are for it
Destruction; the bittersweet rhyme,
of all the things we could have been
a last gasp for air, do I dare
