In the still of the darkest hour of the night I lie awake.
Thoughts of what I have discovered on my path and what still remains untouched.
In the blinding darkness I confess aloud to myself that I would die without my Art.
Were I ever forbidden to live the Journey than to perish would be the only consoling.
Not simply a general pastime for me, a way of life.
My very breath resonates the passion for my Art.
It is what I am; my passion, my Art, myself.
Thoughts of what I have discovered on my path and what still remains untouched.
In the blinding darkness I confess aloud to myself that I would die without my Art.
Were I ever forbidden to live the Journey than to perish would be the only consoling.
Not simply a general pastime for me, a way of life.
My very breath resonates the passion for my Art.
It is what I am; my passion, my Art, myself.
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