Her sleep is sullen, gently does she move
the garments that adorn her.
Creases forming over time,  
ridges adorning her higher reaches.

Upon these elevations does life cling,
majestic in its existence.
Beauty hides in grace and a thirst
for survival. upon high there is
No good or evil only life.

Upon the highest reaches of this breathing
world, where breath is far and in-between.
You will find a place of wonder and desolation,
each in harmony. Life is death and existence
is but a moment passing within creases..

If your head is your home
Then your eyes are boarded windows.
If your mouth is the door
Then it's been locked for sure.
If your voice is a song
It's been on repeat for too long.
If your words are a work of art
Then you're an abstract painting.

If your plans are a mountain
It towers high above the clouds.
I shouldn't get involved.
I'd climb half way up just to fall.
I've seen others who try.
They had no chance to survive.
When someone gets too close
The wind just blows and blows.