Inspiration

One tries to give romance to death
but death devours and hungers more;
It's fulcrum turns a switch, expire
our dreams, our hope, our breath.

We find ourselves knocked to the floor;
The *Club Pugilist* will never retire.
The exclusion of those drawing breath
Temporary, by definition, ever more.

So tug on the rope, avoid the fire
and burn of the effort, to death.
We cannot but fill our breath still more
And hope, at length, to inspire.