Earth was still and Heaven loomed above silently,
yet life still had not existed.
In the beginning, time never turned and love never prospered.
The light of day blackened dark against the shadows,
the wind howled a screeching cry,
and pain remained extinct from the absent light,
tied and bound deep within the soul of the earth
and words had yet to be written.
In the beginning, man had yet to exist.
But the bound pain within continued to struggle free.
Birds never sang the sweet, sweet melody that the wind carried on its back,
or that subtle hint of humanity that roamed the air.
In the beginning of time and space,
there was no hatred to speak of and no burdens to bear.
No sorrow to steal and nothing to care for
but earth herself.
In the beginning, time was still and life was pure.