The Breathing Days
In the days when I still breathed air,
the days before
living took my breath away,
the days before
I knew my soul was there.
I thought about this time,
this time of no light,
the forever night time
with no breath, no air
to breathe.
Just dust and darkness.
And I pondered.
Would there be slow decay
or fast.
Stillness or movement.
Now I know.
I know everything about
the dust and darkness.
But I can't tell you.
Not now
in these days
of no breath,
no air
to speak.
Only my soul can speak.
Can you hear me?



VerseWrights
VerseWrights is a community for those who enjoy writing poetry, and who want to post their work for others to read, experience, and comment upon. The site is open to all who write and wish to join.

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