LINES OF THOUGHT © 2015

We return to the place we came from,

Where time does not weigh and the soul is light,

As the years pass, to struggles we succumb,

But each step brings us back to the brief.

The battles fought are merely echoes

Of evolutionary attempts, an uncertain path,

But no matter how they shine, and seem dry,

They will never be as grand or as near.

Nothing compares to the primal beauty,

To the battle lived before existence,

There, in the silence of true essence,

Where everything was light before it emerged.

The final destiny is, in fact, to return,

To that place from which we came, without cease.

---

Play

---