Abstemious breather, trust your grip
Nourish thoughts of splendor
Asphyxiate your doubts
Return them to sender
Wipe the drowsy sand from your brow
What a fuming head of fire
What a scorching storm of white noise
Away with the tinnitus of that warbling mind
Away with such thundering designs
There’s friction between those neurons
Fecund to the fear
Of your fingers slipping quickly
From any serene frontier
There are tremors with a rhythm rousing discordant noise
Your mind plies you with bittersweetness
Return to sender or fear your grip