The sudden shrinking of space.
Sweating palms are a failing grip.
The heart punches an unrelenting wall.
Dying as you live.
Oxygen is the supreme truth.
The spirit speaks in a cascade of despair “It’s over.”
Bright scenes mock and bright voices screech.
Death beckons an early visit.
Yet even birds fly in an enclosed space.
If you love anything, you sweat.
The heart only speeds towards a place to rest.
Real living is stronger than a deathly fleeting.
Why do you breathe anyway?
Faith is a stubborn child “No, I won’t!”
The brightness within has yet to diminish.
Death has enough company.