Just as each year, each life, so does each moment follow the same pattern.
Each moment begins with a growing hope
A hope for joy and fulfillment
Each breath lifts your chest, ascending with the exhilaration of life
Ascending with the innate knowledge of its own ending
Each moment, each day, each year the pattern is the same
A promise of hope, warmth, life, and love
A promise that, early on, seems possible to fulfill
It invites us to bask in the warmth, the height of its inhalation
We do, we go and try to forget the knowledge that the dark is coming, the dank and cold are growing
Each moment, each day, each year, each breath grows darker and colder as it nears its death
Each moment, as each year, so, too, passes
Each exhalation is that moments death.
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