Here I breathe

Here I breathe,

Lost, alienated, lonely.

There was the land I bequeath,

Here I breathe,

Not on the soil nor beneath.

There I see a gloomy wreath,

Adorned with petals of despair.

Oh, the pointless life of mine,

Oh, the suicide shadow’s shine—

A flicker cold, beyond repair.

Here I breathe,

Forever falling short of worth,

A ghost unanchored to the earth.

Excommunicated, alienated.

Yet still, I search the air for faith.

There will be a life to bequeath,

A seed to root, beyond this grief.

((I wrote this piece when I arrived in Australia and was at the airport.))