Breaths

I'm not scared of the storm.
     It's like an acquaintance that feels warm. 
         Let It rain.
         Let it pour.
    Unlike before,
I'm really not scared anymore.

I've lost enough to care.
Come to collect the change, even the spare.
     What is life?....just a few breaths. 
     Each and every one leading to your death.
            Each year we celebrate the countdown.
            Perception that makes us put on the crown.

Every breath,
leads you closer to death.
     Yet, if you reserved it and just stopped breathing, 
     you'll not preserve it, instead get there sooner.
              So, do we celebrate each year already lived,
              or are we celebrating lesser breaths to give?
 
Whatever be it!
You still can't control it.
        Haven't learned to live,
        in so many years, still.
              Life just throws a curveball,
              every time I stop to breathe at a stall. 

Even Elijah, the great,
couldn't accept this fate.
       After slaying the four hundred,
       he still succumbed to no courage.
             The truth is, life is only a game.
              And everyday will never be the same.

You could be stuck in lifetime imprisonment.
But, even behind bars, there could be some betterment.
      I know, I may sound silly.
      But, if you accept this, somewhat nearly.
             Maybe you'll see a little clearly,
            if you surrender and stop planning so cleverly.

Curveballs and tsunamis.
Accept, you'll be eating as often as salami.
      But remember, if you want to drive on a national highway,
      you will only have confidence if you can drive through these crazy roads, anyway
                if your birthday's near,
                I pray you see clear.

Happy birthday to you.
Peace and joy in all you do.
     Some fewer breaths,
     until your death.
             More wisdom, perhaps.
             Filled in those empty gaps.

So smile in the storm. 
Heck, smile all along.
      Because nothing is permanent. 
      These things just better your temperament.
             Nothing  really matters.
             You are merely a chapter.

In the creation story,
you are just temporary.
      People come; people go.
      But it goes on, the show.
            Actors playing their part.
            Some improvise the skit from the start.

Audience judges; they may clap.
Fame and adulation or judgement and criticism slapped.
         But, the show must go on.
         No actor is indispensable in a play or song.
               This breath of life,
               was a gift from the one inside.

He called you worthy.
  So, go on fulfill your duty.
       Make them count.
       But, not to this world.
   Every breath,
right unto death.

-RUELHA 
www.ruelha.com
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