To Me You Are The Breath Poem by Gert Strydom

To me you are the breath
that I take almost endlessly
before the time of approaching death
is near to me

and every moment I treasure
your presence that is more than wealth
to me, in its sheer pleasure
and even your health

brings good fortune to anybody
that shares your life
and thus you are a prize, but everybody
in this foul age is full of strive:

I decay each and every day,
since you have gone away.