In the garden of eternity, before time’s bloom,
We stood as whispers, in the Maker’s room.
The world unformed, yet the truth aglow—
Our souls, like stars, in His presence bow.

"Am I not your Lord?"—a question profound,
Echoed through the silence, a cosmic sound.
From the depths of being, we rose to declare,
"Yes, O’ Lord, we know, Your light is everywhere!"

Not of flesh, nor bone, were we then made,
Yet in His presence, our spirits laid—
A pact eternal, in that sacred space,
Our hearts forever bound to His grace.

The veils of matter had not yet fallen,
No night, no dawn, no stars yet callin’,
Yet in that moment, pure and bright,
We knew the truth, beyond all sight.

O’son of Adam, heed this call:
In the dust of time, we forget it all.
But deep within, the seed remains—
The covenant that never wanes.

The world will tempt, and hearts may stray,
But remember, O’ seeker, that ancient day—
When Alast’s light shone through the soul,
And we, in awe, were made whole.

The soul that forgets is lost in the mire,
But the heart that remembers burns with fire.
The covenant still calls, in silence profound—
In the rhythm of life, it echoes its sound.

Rise, O’ seeker, from your sleep,
Awake to the truth, from the heavens deep.
In the silence of Alast, find your call—
For He, your Lord, is the Source of all.

When you come up too fast and your breath leaves you.
Your mind spins round.
Sirens flooding out white noise.
Nothing really matters as you trip over yourself.
Majestic space collecting itself.
Back to the never ending repeat beat.
Eight track dusty film reeled up in my head.
Electric jolt, slap my face.
Reality cracks and the clocks going back.
Little bites at a time.
Time.
Free fallin'
Never stopin'.
All the way,
full throttle into the great white nothing.
Into the era of no escape.