The Search for Paradise

By Dana

The draw of breath on heavy lungs

Air whistles through an aching throat

To rattle in a cage

Each arm weighs that of a thousand

Each footstep begs for rest

No not tonight, must move on

To get there first

Racing toward warm sunshine

And lungfuls of sweet soft air

Ever racing

For that feel of vigor

Stroking tired veins

Ever racing

Until sluggish veins run dry

And each arm is unliftable

And another footstep does not come

Standing on a hill top

Back facing the sun

p.s- This poem is about how people go through life too quickly