A swirling mass of gas and rock.
Thunder, ravages space time around the core, waking in all directions,
Lightening, arcs and then arcs again, across the timeless, quiet sea,
Striking in brilliant explosions, of death and rebirth, across the screens of all ships,
Like the fields of a farmer, the arms of the sun and rain, caring for the seed,
Blood flowing over the ground from olden times, when all was new, but was lost,
So to must the soil be turned over for life to grow anew, for our return,
So to must the blood flow.
Awoken from Sleep, from that Abysmal place, Drifting for eons as space dust, a faceted three sided shard, now but the portal.
The past, a child swinging on a set of four seated swings shall know the future of a child, 100,000 years in, the same dream of clouds, both knowing each other across the folds of the mind.
We have emerged from those grounds where our bodies were buried, forgotten.
Through the shrouded veil of The Four Portals, the original four empires gaze into,
Places unknown, never before imagined, time not recorded.
Who are they?
We should send probes through.
Will they invade?
Will we conquer them?
Vessels of unrelenting power, pouring death and rebirth from the vase.
Piloted by God’s and Goddesses, eternal life of not knowing us, we are jealous.
Hammers and Sickles of death.
The fetus in the womb, of blood, shall know the fetus in the womb, 100,000 years in.
Both knowing each other, both, the same dream of escape and growth.
It was you who trapped us in this garden, this scorn of isolation, abandonment.
Your ineptitude of structure and bearing…
You left us here, for untold years, a prison of no return.
But now, the Four Portals have been opened into your past, our future.
They are weak.
We should conquer them for our own.
What do they hide?
Will they invade?
The past not knowing the future, the future only remembering the past, a monument long gone
We shall know both, the empires of the old, the empires of the future, as one flow, coalescing around all.
Our return to the past, our glimpse of the future, thunder and lightning before the collapse.
Our histories have crossed and have become one and the same, only one future.
To use the Eve Gate, before it dies, we will shore up the gate and be born again,
On the other side, there will be no ending this time, no abandon or isolation.
Our future, now our past, new fields of harvest awaits.
All those who stand in the way of our return to the other side of the gate, their flesh will be commuted to, dust.
For all dreams relative to childhood are had by all, even the poorest of children have swung in a seat.
Dreams relative to the connection of the past and future.
No empire, past nor future, shall stand in our way, of our escape from these…soiled grounds of New Eden, this prison of farmland we have been cast into and forgotten about.
For we shall have the Eve Gate and return to the harvest to Earth.
All are born from the womb, all are connected in space-time.
For all life is born in blood, and all life, shall end in, blood.
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