Clay

How are we molded
or are we molded at all?

Maybe we're free forms which stem from
clay molecules that go awry
for all the life that is to be.

We conceptualize the integrity and solace of
hope, love and pain.

Ravaged by wear,
we become the form
that is the purpose
of existence.

The crevices are intertwined
and ever-present
and ever-changing
to the tune of the truth.

Harmony entangles and loosens
our beauty.