You see me upon the ocean high, with white horses I ride. Foundations plunge down to the depths beneath but not to anchor me.

Having a key is not enough for you to go back home. You have to put your key in this too. Not all locks have this.

I guard the gateway to your soul when beads flow and dust blows. I am not alive yet still I grow.

Upon one of its towers a princess is kept, with a dungeon below, and a moat surrounding every last inch. Keeping the king and queens home safe.

When breath grows thin and panic near, I bring relief when lungs won’t clear. I ride in pockets, light and spare, a breath of mist that brings you air.