the abundance of pores in this sh*ll
manifest as i draw experience
only time will tell
if i’ve manufactured a spiritual cell
filling each sp*ce with what i see
experience moulds my destiny
life is the reasoning for the cause
my existence bids to natures laws
my body a sh*ll of human cells that contain me
myself a kaleidoscope of thoughts that won’t set me free
with each breath that i take i slowly fill the sp*ce which will be me!
this feeling it causes me to
while away the years and suck experience
till my sh*ll is filled and i die
woven flesh – tomb encases my soul
changes in seven year cycles
still wandering – does my sh*ll have a cause?
the end. a measure of my worth.