I eat, sleep, breath a self rendition
A puppet acting what should be,
The greatest work of art;
Life

Yet, arms and legs
Are bound in fallow strings;
Like earth-binding vines,
meant to drag the angels down

Never hold tight;
Gripping all our mistakes,
Like a life-raft,
In a churning sea, we have yet to understand

All footsteps,
Disturb the gravel ground,
As we lead them,
Or they lead us,
Towards whatever goal we choose