alchemist
shell
The abundance of pores in this shell Manifest as I draw experience Only time will tell, if I've manufactured a spiritual cell Filling each space with what I see Experience molds my destiny Life is the rezoning for the cause My existence bids to nature's laws My body a shell 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 space which will be me This feeling, it causes me to, while away the years and suck experience Till my shell is filled and I die Woven flesh tomb, encases my soul Changes in seven year cycles Still wandering, does my shell have a cause? The end, a measure of my worth