punctured lungs inexplicably heave deep sighs.
with his sharp knife sadness' slits crush
but enable earth shattering groans.
perhaps the groans are just weight put to words.
sadness' poem is simple, gutteral, beautiful, inescapable,
Until it is lost in numbness or victory.
I fear I will be lost to numbness if left to my own devices.
Victory seems so far away.
Who can cling to it?
oh, punctured lungs. you heave deep sighs...
