Birth Of A Thousand Worlds Poem by Zakhele Anigon

It's dark again
Lost the sense of being
Where is the light
I truly hate not seeing

It was a dream
A dream of infinite shards
Sharp like blades
Transparent like glass

There was a theme
A theme of lingering pain
Unknowable and infinite
To the ones labelled sane

There was a scene
A scene that characters acted
It was a spectacle
Somehow they actually hacked it

Exists does a sin
But sadly nothing specific
It's engraved in me
I guess it would be horrific

I am the core, the epicenter
He who connects, the mender
The pattern master, the one who sees all
Tying the strings giving shape and form

I am the seeder, the founding father
The omniverse, the nurturing mother
The architect, the one who creates all
And through me into existence they flow

In this mortal plane
Time flows through me
And I flow through time
I harness the pain
Transform it into a birth
Which I will do survive

The canal I become
A newborn world I deliver
In all its glory it stands
As I smile and shiver

Its gravity massive
Untangled my state
For now to it I belong
To it I'm innate

Any sense of pain is gone
As I'm creating the dawn
No need for fight or flight
As I'm creating the night
My layers no longer colliding
As secrets in here I'm hiding
Gone the weight, I feel so light
To the last cog, everything's right

Then I leave
I return to the dream
To the lingering pain
That cuts so deep

To the well acted scenes
That leave me in awe
To the state of confusion
Discerning friend from foe

To the stainful sin
Of a bleeding past
Leaking into present
All its rot and pus

Now I can take it
I have the strength
I know I can make it
I can go the length

I've painted skies
Sculpted earths
My way I pave
To a thousand births