Second breath

I found my second breath
the day Bombay almost died
at 2 am on that Friday when blood and anger dried

Marathons are run on the 2nd breath
and might take a while to find
Its right after your lungs burst with the pain
which then frees up your mind

The breath was long coming old waves hitting the shore
but a tidal wave that night that took me over the threshold

Right after you’re best speed
when pain and panting peaks
and you start running for the sake of running
hours days or weeks

All the anger’s spent
grime of years and some before
protests, cynicism and helpless paralysis
resurrected as a drive for more

Can’t leave it to others
Nothing left to leave
So much lost and broken
and not enough tears to grieve

A pain in a vein in your temple that throbs and throbs and throbs
no ranting, no music, no writings
and no alcohol that blots
Just a cold stale leftover reality
that you’re where the buck stops

So I’ll run the next long mile
on the this 2nd breath I’ve found
no goals no short term prizes
for to running now I’m bound.