When the sun stings the somber eye and the curtains fade to endless sky, I can only hope for passion in this life. Without passion there is only greed. The palpable spirit, so free, so wild, should never be tamed, but in brevity, meandering the sinuous path unknown to even he. For he himself seeks life of a thousand unknowns, garnering each jagged piece to the puzzle of creativity with the eye of a new sun. For the price of youth is insurmountable to even the most precious stone.