And so you may reward yourself
Through paths forworn
And be floored by what may stand
Or fall in this begotten lore.
For what is artificial
But the eyes that view it?
For not just you, these sounds stand
And humbling so, is your irrelevance.
Life shall proceed unwitting
To the aches and pains of your own,
Canvassed in such brilliance lies being,
So what hope do you have?
Fear not what sheds off of your naked back,
For what lies ahead is stupendous.
Naught but death may take from you
The love of beauty untamed.