The universe is steady,
but always moving.
Noisy, yet makes no sound.
Completely dark,
but full of light.
And all of this happening,
together in my mind.

O, My Creator, Deliver Me From These Inquisitions,
Emancipate Me From These Wretched Oppositions,
Free Me From The Chains Of My Weary Disposition,
Envelop Me Within The Folds Of Your Holy Apparition

The Sun's Light Dwindled Along The Horizon,
Darkness Bruised The Ledges Of The Sky,
Summer's Vegetation Recoiled And Fossilized,
Within The Dark Soil's Crumbling Underlie

O, Glorious Divine Being, Act On My Requisition,
Extricate My Soul From It's Appalling Malnutrition,
This Tattered Mind Is A Degenerating Composition,
Let My Spine Sprout Wings To Carry Me To Redefinition*

Stars Emerged From The Depths Of The Heavens,
Holes Filtrating The Stale Air Circulating In Slime,
Oozing From A Fatal Virus They Referred To As Time

Maiden,
New beginnings sprout in feminine Earth.
Legs rooted in blossoming
Spring.
Newborn innocence cultivates in
raw purity.

Mother,
essence of life,
predecessor of power.
Like fruit ripening in preparation of harvest.
Fertile fulfillment found in
abundance.

Crone,
a culmination of earned experience,
compassionate wisdom.
Cold winter bears bereavement.
Change in continuous
cycle.

~

Mother earth,
complexion of cosmos.
My celestial
creator.
Maiden, mother, crone. Woman.
Goddess.

The creator had created this world,
Not specifically but only randomly.
There're just so many of loopholes,
Negatives're so many in this world.
All creators leave some holes agape,
Even Eliot was unable to cover it all.
He can't be blamed for it - perhaps the world is like this,
Maybe things go on depreciating along with the clock.