Helpless as the fish whose bowl’s so ill,
that it can’t stay under, can’t jump out.
Breath, a Necessity of the hour,
and the luxury of the weak mind.
For the water hurts, but the water sustains.
The quandary of life, the dilemma of death.
Pulls it ever apart, tearing it in two.
And the conjecture you always wanted,
will remain a specter ever more.
Just because,
it was hard to abdicate.