I'm Okay

Sparks of a dead man's voice remain as he walks among living Blunt-tipped embers when even the widow would not dare whisper In purposelessness they share a plague with no end of grey in it's bringing . . . Breathes of a lone man fall too short for hope from their density Gravity is liberty, the key to flight from the man's grave intensity . . Inhale lives of thriving . Exhale your own thoughts of dying . Inhale the catch in you that's crying . Inhale an ego so high and let them know you are not lying . . . You are