Sometimes tomorrow is too far away to touch

But close enough to grasp your breath.

Sometimes the springtime closes itself off to the world, even as it lifts it onto its shoulders.

For the weight of it lies in perception

And its beauty fades into the golden rays of summers past.

That which lies before us is an illusion, a snapshot of our state of mind.

And at the end of the day it will fall between the cracks unless we immortalize it.

The fears that we know are our own worst enemy,

And our closest ally.

For to overpower them proves that we have breath left in our body to fight another day,

And live another lie.