Some say it is like magic.
Some say it's not meant to be.
I'll tell you my friend what's tragic.
If you don't see what I want you to see.

There is a beauty in the serenity.
And the serenity is what you seek.
Perception gives beauty an infinity.
To be the serenity of which you speak.

Perhaps I may have lost you.
My thoughts are at least chaotic.
This line of thinking is past due.
Because you may think it psychotic.

The serenity, beauty, and balance.
A harmonious trio indeed.
Acquisition would take many talents.
There's an easier way to succeed.

Just put aside your wicked ego.
You don't need it ''tis but a waste.
Let that zen of your childhood regrow.
Back when your pride you had yet to taste.

Beauty itself is flawed.
In that it is entirely subjective.
Into your conscious has clawed.
The idea that it must be collective.

Nay my friend I assure you.
There is serenity in the chaos.
Let your surroundings subdue you.
Any other action would be your loss.

The blood and the screaming.
The dust, the sweat, and the fear.
On the face of the demon who's dreaming.
I can tell you he is always near.

So you may as well look my friend.
Find the beauty that lies in his soul.
For if he should awake my friend.
His serenity will take its toll.