The World According to Tracy
A Reminisce About Her Body
Spewed from the finest treasure chest, a black treasure chest. Sculpted from the finest of woods, fitly framed into the best finishing. Through your eyes, a million stars tell of your views.
The autonomy the world needs and the charity it deserves. Songs help you to narrate your vanities in the best way. Those vanities are shielded in the darkest corners, away from the light of the Sage.
But the Sage wants you, for he is with and in you. In you, to do of his good pleasure and will. A pleasure that still delights your soul. Your soul that still craves rest amidst cravings.
Rest amidst the turbulence of desires. The desire we now label, and still show an unconditional positive regard. A regards the whole humanity needs to feel loved in this world.
A love only the Sage could show, a love we now have as an example. An example that is ever before our face is the saint. Your views are the stars in your eyes — an echo of pain, covered with the plaster of graciousness.
A crest and trough will not cut the description of how it has been till today, but his faithfulness has been constant.
Amid all grumbles, “This too shall pass” you will mumble.
