You'll never capture my spirit, my lucid energy. I'm in a constant battle against the mundane. I'm born of earth, and when I talk of my Mother, I am referring to Mother Nature. Let me run rancid amongst her garden. I shall become one with the mountains, trees and spirits of this land. Get your head out of this space and the fact that we all must die. I have no fear in death, it is a part of life. Everything I create while on this earth will always live. Expressions of self do not die, only bodies do.
Find your fever in the air, catch my spirit and energy, I'm throwing it all around me in hopes that you may have some of what I have.
You can free or kill your spirit. You can throw it on the ground or in the air. You can breath life into it or break it into a million little pieces. I'm an expression hanging in a purple sky. I've got warrior bruises and paint on my face. Each experience is a mark and I'm sorry for my rancid behavior. Bring me to life, I am forever as long as you are in for the battle.