Symmetry Poem by Luke Turamarama

Symmetry, Symmetry.
Oh how I long for thee.
For my fragile husk.
Altered through the years towards dust.
My mane shines as the stars puncher the night.
The river in my veins slows.
My sun kissed shell wilts to sand.
Encircled in decay.
I pray to symmetry.
Halt this mortal husk for me.

Symmetry, Symmetry.
I don't long for thee.
Chaos has marked me of this world.
With every finite beat I was made.
Not whole, nor empty.
Compounded moments shape my soul.
Each wave crashes on a different shore.
And when my shell becomes sand.
The ferryman will say I know thee.
Change not symmetry.