When from the void a spark awoke
Driving shadows from the dark
All was changed within the void
Burning cold, the world’s first smoke.
And the spark, tiny orb of life
Foundered on a darkling main
Lost and free to find its way
Til mighty hands stayed its strife.

There beauty flourished underneath
Domes of oceans yet to be
Green and blue and richest gold
For the future to bequeath.
Tones mellifluous, clear and fresh
Danced lighthearted on the spark
As formed were verdant woodlands
And with harmony did mesh.
Out still the potent hands wove
From the bosom of the orb
Things of splendor unforeseen
Save by he who in his trove
Kept secrets for the world to know
Only when he would them sew.
So it was that with a sweet breath
The bright spark itself was gouged
A willing yield of essence
To those who should know no death.
Through emerald dales paved with life
Stepped two shapes in unity
Blemish laid no stain on them
Spoke the man and called her wife.

But from this pair inviolate
Reared the ages’ agony
Born ever by their children
That no sum of death could sate.
Above the azure firmament
Fledged phantoms took note and shrieked
Fly you fleet and sure of wing
But not ere ‘tis permanent!
Then quaked the spark and all its train
Predestined to be maligned
Clasped together, iron-spiked,
Strong palms raised against their bane.
Drops of sorrow fell, met the orb
Drinking in the world’s first rain.
Now were quarried gulfs vast and tall
To part them from purity;
Boughs once swathed in lustrous gold
Withered in the foremost fall.

A rotting ream of fallen leaves
Was slathered on the surface
Smothering the orb’s glimmer
As was foretold on the sheaves.
All manner of unholy things
Fluttered from glowering clouds,
Icy in their sinister discord
Which the orb gladly sings.
Temporal voices muttering
In multitude, solitude
Can carry no consequence
For they speak through shuddering.
Their breaths sweep across icebound wastes
Piling powdered carcasses
Into civilization
Crumbling, melting in great haste.

But in the depths of dark despair
A pure not began and spread
Resonating on the wind
For the orb’s fate to prepare.
Twisted teeth crowned with deathly spires
Casting sulfurous shadows bright
Quivered in their fatal strife
At chime of lofty choirs.
Bonds were shorn from those held captive
By dragging imperfection.
In a blink were all erased
Troubles of the world, and lived
Once more two shapes radiantly
Bright as heal hands conducted
From ethereal throats
An angelic symphony.