In the terminus of time
before a continent groans
shouldering a-wakening Sun
as a mason might a hod...
When a full Moon still
hangs above a slumbering
land...
The ghosts of past lives meet
with living souls
It is the soft hours when sleep hangs
heavy upon the brow
Old and loved ones come to call
in tangled skiens of dark matter
Past, present and future
a moebius strip of causality
We never truly die
We are eternal
Born from matter forged
At a star's heart
We transmutate
and are changed into
Dreams...
-Fin-
DS Baker
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