I only have my breath.
Not my words, as they sometimes betray me.
Not my feelings as they're too fleeting.
Not my thoughts, as they build up dangerous labyrinths where the soul gets lost.
I only have my breath to face the madness of the world.
To pick me up when I fall. When I feel I can't keep walking.
To breath out the overwhelming pain... long and heavy exhales morphing into sounds, morphing into songs.... soul morphine.
At least, I guess, I have my songs.
Like winged beats of hope.
Like water from a stream.
Like gentle rays of light coming through the window, warming.
At least I have my songs, soul morphine.
Essence of the black deep ground
Gusts of wind
At least I have my breath.
At least I have my songs...
Keep breathing. Keep singing.
Everything will be fine. Everything will be fine.