While this worlds yearns to create we embody the urge to destroy. And yet while we are conditioned to see beauty and appreciate all that is natural the desire to stand out ripples in our beings. As our moment approaches, we wilt not in the face of its reckoning but engage its fulfillment. It is our destiny to believe but our reality to exist. We work for those fiery passions that we refuse to recognize in our otherwise civilized society. The plague that has spread is about controlling what we know and yet we torture through to learn. It is our pride that leads us yet our pleasure that refuses to see us through. There is no bigger facade than when we look in the mirror for we only truly recognize that what is lost. Our past leans on and we balance the odds of your future with the ignominy of defeat. There is no synchronous action, movement or position that recognizes the random behaviour we fight to capture. And while our urge to match is extinguished the flame to refuse is rekindled. There is no pure symmetry in art that we seek but the match of our symbolisms. There is no unrefined emotion that we seek but the swirl of what is lost. There is no flawless form we seek but the restitute of our broken minds. And all the while we seek to endure. It is our pain and joy that blind us and the bland monotone that pushes us through and yet we fail to capture that what inspires. While the world rocks, our graves desist from the unnatural sense that pervades all life, for at peace the body ceases to lie. There is no art in the appreciation that is bestowed from high altars and yet no art in that what is left forever in the dust. There is only one true form that seeks to persist, the survival of which we serve, the needs of whom we quote, the touches of what we embellish. We refuse to recognize that true power for it is not built, but lingers on for time immemorial. There is no truth that we seek but a higher form of release.

That is your existence.

That is your designation.

That is your purpose.

That is your life.

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