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Spaces in the void call to the mother Whose great emptiness is full of all things Her center pulls in every dark emotion Turning hate to love and loss to plenty Taking pain and replacing it with peace She, a steady river, pulls in a deep current Churning silt to spin in hurricane spirals Guiding the flood to the mighty ocean Mixing faded browns with rusty reds Blending the chaos into a cerulean blue — Deeper than the blackest seas combined — At night, the mother of nothing speaks Folding darkness into a never ending Block, uncarved from the empty thoughts That pivot towards the many worldly desires And back to the infinite source of her heart She sees all and holds all within She is everything, yet she is nothing An endless void wider than space itself Yet smaller than the point of a needle She is our mother, our love, and our pain — Rolled into one —
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May 4
May 4, 2026 at 7:18 PM UTC
The Singularity