A breath that quickens, shallow, strained,
In rhythm swift and uncontained.
An urgent call, the body’s plea,
For balance found in purity.
Where oxygen in measure sought,
Meets carbon’s trade, so finely caught.
Yet here it stirs, a hurried pace,
A racing heart, a fleeting grace.
In fever’s grip or lungs confined,
The rhythm breaks, the pace unkind.
Asthmatic winds that strain the chest,
Or fluid’s weight, depriving rest.
The heart may falter, beat by beat,
As breath is dashed in hasty sweep.
And acids in imbalance rise,
To meet the lungs in tight disguise.
Or subtle hands of worry creep,
Invade the breath, deny the sleep.
With every gasp and tightened sigh,
The mind stirs storms it can’t deny.
Yet as this speed of life demands,
The body shifts to meet its plans.
Each rapid breath, though labored, thin,
Is life’s own fight to breathe again.
