For beauty

Death does not exist

But in it death resides

It is taken upon pleasure

It bears the knife

It has no motive to itself

But to exist

Yet death is its unbeknownst path

As time ushers it to its inevitable change

To the passage of darkness

Upon its end delivers a note

Take pleasure in your pure moments

Let them be known

Make them eternal

And let death be your chariot

Messenger of knowing

And infinite beauty