Inside the womb
immortality
desires a passion
of the mortality,
and the pre-born life
feels the load
of the born view.

Will audience applaud
our virtual memory?
Or will memory become our decision?
Apart from this life,
who will be the ones
catching the view?

Mortality feels so vulnerable
as it lusts
after mortality,
and it only takes
a momentary, earthly tremble
to lose the memory
of the eternal perspective.

So complex,
our broken hearts return
to their designer to be fixed.

We are all museums.

We all return to the essence.

And today, our path is completely vertical.