I sense the weighted heeds increasing minute from minute,

hear the strings of an aching heart screeching past hazards limit;

Ceaseless wondering,

breath taken slight of vying wind fluttering;

Part from need for air supply,

kneaded knack forth eyes in flight,

I must admit this tickle doesn't conflict with mind;

Insinuating elements,

such hope to catch tiny cathartic pieces of myself within slender moments;

Day flees from night,

night surrenders to days' light,

harness silt lullabies,

a weaken spirit only seams to oblige.