In my hands hold the delica lights of the world.

Within my grasp slips the sands of time.

My eys seek the peace of the loud sounds of my chaotic mind..

For it is peace I hold so deeply inside the cracks of what makes me.

For it is peace that makes me a slient natured soul.

In a world I create, in the world I pursue, peace was the reason.

The peace that healed every limb from my fingertips to my toes.

I learned peace, it found me. It said open up your soul, your mind, your body.

I did. In return it planted inside me happiness.

Perhaps it was never much of what I wanted.

It was more of how I     n e e d e d   it.