After the eternal moment of silence,
A whisper erupted.
Crawling through the mire of what cannot be,
But soon shall.
The stencils of (Apollo)’s domain set the stage,
Blinding us to the curtain.
When the utterance spoke the last dashed line into existence,
Only the Echo remained:
The Creator born of himself.
Truly the God of Mirrors,
He transforms the discarded,
Into the remembered;
Breathes power to the clay-molding-clay,
With a shadowy whisper:
“Through negation: creation.”