as we hurtle through deep open space,
at a resoundingly dangerous fast pace.
dependent upon wings we've never had,
relishing the good, and suffering the bad.

We, are composed of seven octillion atoms,
walking this earth in God's universal patterns.
spawned from womb, and bound for the tomb,
moving through life, as we walk through rooms.

"Out of nowhere—there, suspended in air,
The Ivory King in his floating chair,
From an unblemished citadel of octillion prayers.
Descending alabaster stairs,
Snow-white orbs drift everywhere,
Piercing my soul past flesh and layers—
A presence so vast, I can’t help but stare…
And feel scared."