Breathe

Breathe, for breathing is each newborn's sign of life and conciousness
And breath's absence exists as the sign of aged spirits departing.
Breath holds in fainthearted hands the assurance of bravery and motion
Freely giving the truth of tangibility behind each imbecilic notion.

For each passionate impersonator
Who finds his way into the limelight
Inhales the assuredness he needs
To firmly play his role.

Those who imprison their need for animation
Would separate their very purpose from it's goal.
And no more have the capability to lunge toward their conclusion
So the consequence will only be confusion.

At this moment, we return to our previous nature. Let us unlearn
The tradition of domesticated breathing.
And no longer refrain from becoming our truest selves. For...

We oft-times neglect to recall the need for exhalation
Thus, an agonized exclaimation is the result we may aquire through our mortal probation.
The raging heavens cease to hold captive their forces behind the tranquil dome of atmosphere
And all at once breathe out so chaotically in unrehearsed symphony
As to inadvertently crush the unconscious core of personages here.

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