Cumbersome we draw breath to start the day,

As we slide throw another day drawing a breath that may be are last,

To which perhaps we have none but to move forward and beyond,

Each day the line is drawn in the sand for us to step forth to care on,

Live being no more then a series of events for us to discover over and over,

The sun comes and goes the moon keeps in turn,

A simple balance of light and dark turning more and more,

Life never ends it just trudge along on the path in which we set,

Life is no more a journey of the line in witch we drew in the sands of time,

So take this breath as it will be you last,

Don’t dwell on the sand that has already slipped for the glass,

Do not falter on the things you convict as your own,

Walk knowing that the sand that has spilt for you was not just lost in time,