Creation always begins in darkness
as drifting strings come together
in the abode of nothing
(where there is no midst
and no light).
Catching harmony on horsetails,
they spark -- blazing forth...
Catch eyes with the face
framed by darkness
in the window.
Feel the neon blue hum in the air
as creation trickles lightning bugs
and candle flickers
begin to wring nothing
out of existence.
I can feel it right now:
gathering speed as it gathers time --
on par with something great,
I can feel someone looking over my shoulder
(the world is on my shoulders,
so I am not alone),
I can feel him right now,
shattering my soul --
onyx shards of the old abyss
send blisters up my spine --
my back is on fire, creeping
towards my mind.
Throw the world of man at my feet,
or I'll bow to her --
and she'll stomp them all.
That's my princess paw,
my overwhelming three eyed
heartbox law.
We're one.
Remember: the creation spawned darkness --
or did darkness spawn creation?
The bound world rests motionless while
life blazes under the fire of damp night
(lion's paw
and in the air death comes swift --
caught, a momentary leap
turned eternity
in bitter defeat)
and a million worlds created and destroyed,
and darkness creeps along the seams.
