Winter has decorum
unlike his sister Spring,
he is slow and ponderous
but she's a giddy thing

That rush of euphoria fighting into our head,
Jolt of adrenaline creeping to the places we tread,
Reckless actions thrown up for the sake of this sensation,
What more can this be called...
but a poison created of our own volation?

Am
I
  Truly
   As
    Unique
     As
      I
       Can
        Be
         ?

I fought.
In the battle ground.
I surrendered.
In my own game.
I lost.
In the arena of life.

What is the difference between—
A double-edged sword;
A loaded riffle and;
A sharp tongue?

Breathe in, breathe out
One, two, three—
It’s a necessity.
But I beg to disagree—
It’s a luxury.