9h
When He was born,
He cried into the void of space,
Searching for the comforting voice of calm.
But only silence returns His call,
His tears echoing of the dark edges of the dark.
But He taught Himself to walk,
How to shape something with His own hands,
Then He made a world to answer back.
He cried into the void of space,
Searching for the comforting voice of calm.
But only silence returns His call,
His tears echoing of the dark edges of the dark.
But He taught Himself to walk,
How to shape something with His own hands,
Then He made a world to answer back.
Fill this in with whatever person or pronoun you need to really feel it.
