Seed

This is the closest I've ever come to writing the Soul onto paper

Seed



There is a place we all go to be Ourselves
Somewhere in the ripples of Never and Always

Where the peaks and valleys of a time-worn past
Refract pitilessly against an infinite sky of amnesia

Where there is no pleasure, no pain
But a quiet, persistent lull
That reminds us of the Nothingness from whence we sprung

There is a place we have all been
Somewhere in the ripples of Never and Always

Where the toils of Death bore the Fruits of Life
When nothing else mattered, and the anti-void gave way to our first breath

Where the Seed of Time emerged a drone, the canvas to which we add gray with our hearts
And black with our minds