I am't the duration of a breath <br />Nor the flick of a bird's wing <br />I do not fly-by, as time does <br />Haste I shan't bring <br /> <br />I can but quicken the pace <br />The pace I walk so stiff <br />Time is not my air <br />To be palpable; hark, a myth <br /> <br />Whence the wind pushes me <br />I falleth to the earth <br />To let my feet aloft; <br />To anchor me, my girth <br /> <br />But yet my heart lingers <br />To make this flame grow bold <br />The fire that cannot wetten <br />It suffocates the old...<br /><br />Elbert Matt Loubser<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/death-of-a-habbit/
