The world is a breath -
Coming in through the form
And leaving through the invisible.
Pulsating through the rooms of art,
survival screams for salvation -
A Communistic utopian,
under-turned for sake of pride and recognition.

The world is but a breath -
Within the core of existence,
Inside the minds of society,
and in the hearts of the freed hermits,
the nomadic saviors of the human race -
star-children.

Lungs of void and thought and action
and being and being and being -
With veins of rivers and trees
and eyes of ocean wholes,
the face of life gleams truth in sun -
with cancerous tumors of Man’s cities -
cities designed for convenience,
and constructed out of fear for safety -
deeply rooted in the unconscious.

The world is a breath,
and art is the air.