Longevity lingers… my breath is weak, and fable. It’s dark now.
So dark in this life of light. It’s a deep indigo color when I close my eyes.
The stars don’t shine here- everybody appears to be a mirage.
Is this breath I take even real? Does it hold true to the definition of life?
Happiness holds warmth but seems to be so distant.
If there is a light at the end of this deep dark winding underground- reveal it.
Breathless lungs- tattered breathing
