Then comes the day...
cracks thrown across,  my gaunt old face;
and strength gives way...
these bones are tired, cannot keep pace.

What's that you say?
"How much time here?" "How did you place?"
I couldn't say...
but won't be long, finished this race.

And chunked to clay...
marble stone laid, runes carved on base;
then all will say...
I was called home, by the Lord's grace.

If given some slack
would you chase it?

If given the knowledge
would you taste it?

If given the chance
would you waste it?

If given a dream
would you face it?

If given the steps
would you trace it?

If given it all
would you Ace it?

Art cares not...
Art cares not for approval, it simply expresses;
Art cares not for award, it simply impressess;
Art cares not for articulation, it simply apprises;
Art cares not... for in fact, it simply surmises;
Art cares not... but simply, do you?