Before the outpouring of transient worlds
The Vast Darkness was in Itself
He was not, and I in Him
In a rest of perfect Darkness
Still-born existence, rejoicing in a pitch-black womb
Death was yet to deliver this child
Before the Great Sea overflowed… when the pillars collided
The Vast Darkness in Itself
In a paradox existence, where the creative principle are of Itself
A lidless eye opened Itself in the emptiness — Death fell
…yet there is hope for all…
The still-born spirit rests with Gods
In a Sterile Triad, before the ' joins —
In deathless Death, that life has not yet touched
Redemption is delivered, through the bliss of the Lord
He was not, and none in Him… in a rest of perfect Darkness
Still-born worlds, once potent in pitch black womb
Death delivers the child