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In the eternal darkness, Laid a meeting place, In outer space, Recollecting all the mess. The place was so small, Nothing was to exist, Gravity's fist, Standing still but tall. Greedily it stood there, But it grew bored, As all was stored, His soul still was bare. He found himself alone, Sitting there he thought, Was he able to construct, With what he had a dome. And so the plan started, Universe it would be called, The very thought gravity enthralled, Then the place blasted. |
Your poem is very beautiful... I dont believe in a particular god, or god in general, but your poem definatley draws a mental picture of what the creation of the universe in gods hands would look like... At least, thats the way it read to me. Does leave me wondering... about that meeting place, that left him all alone... Also... "the place blasted"... I guess I just don't understand... Do you mean it literally exploded? Or more of a figurative "look whats become of that world/universe/us"? I am just curious what you thought when writing it... Lol, I perceive it more figurativley, myself.. Anyway, I really like this poem... Its beautiful... And, for me, it creates a very touching picture of the creation of the world. :) Oh, another question... What stood greedily? The meeting place, him, or the world that wanted/needed/desired to be created? I think this would make a very interesting series, if you decided to do so. :) -Einna | Posted on 2010-12-13 00:00:00 | by einna | [ Reply to This ] | I like it. You do good work, even if you claim it for yourself, I appreciate your sharing. I think that if we could understand gravity we would know much more than we could even suspect. | | Posted on 2010-12-13 00:00:00 | by Blue Monk | [ Reply to This ] | |