What once was dust,

became,

till what once was,

became dust.

A child balancing on the transparent skeleton of gentleness,
Ivory eyed statues once stone,
Serpents loving grip on innocence's ignorance tenderly twisted,
Dark eyed angels whispered gun smoke in paradise lost,
The iron rainfall breathed rivers crimson with compassion,
A sharp tear of luminescent tragedy on the marble skin of saints,
Saints carved from the earth by sinners,

The procession of progression carries the coffin of it's conscience,
beneath the bones of life long lost,
It's tombstone engraved:

"In the name of peace"

Life itself is beyond our control, but within our control is the way we live the life we have.
Take each moment,
hold it in the palm of your hand and feel it's heartbeat echo against your rib cage.
Everything you are searching for
is already within you.
We are life,
life is art,
and art is what we make it.
So take a hold of every moment and give yourself in your entirety to each experience.

Life is what we make of it, make yours a masterpiece.

Only in the stillness of earth's untouched moments can you hear what calls,
A deep stirring,
A restless wild in the wind,
It whispers things of untamable beauty,
The fluidity of infinitum elegantly intertwined with every breath,
Within the depths of softly burning eyes it is written,
As it's echo traces the horizons edge it calls,

" f r e e d o m "