It seems such a travesty
To flee the very grace
That seeks us with earnest ferver
Enhancement and chiseling
Sometimes also softening
The very definition
Of our short evolution

Are we so shallow
That warding off
What is to be is all we know?

Age, our blessed fate
Is not a foe, but a gift
For without it we are
Unfulfilled, incomplete
Forever young, but never
All we were meant to be