Jan. 1st, 2015

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“The Two Elements”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

“Four elements,” say some,
“Five!” says another.
“Thirty-seven” says my father,
“One hundred eighteen” says my mother.

Water, Earth, Air, and Fire,
Or Spirit gives you a fifth.
“Wood, Fire, Metal, Earth, and Water,” say others,
“Anything else is just a myth.”

Scientists point to atoms
To compile their element list,
But what of all the smaller parts?
Is there something they've all missed?

I look into the sky at night,
And matter at the smallest scale,
And wonder if they all are wrong,
If all these guesses fail.

What if the only elements
That the universe employed
Were simply numbered one and two,
Named “Energy” and “Void”?

Take a mass of Void foundation,
Upon which stretched a skin, you see,
Of spacetime and the universe,
All made up of Energy.

Everything that we can see,
And all the things we can't
Can be boiled down to those two things,
From galaxy to ant.

So look into the massive sky,
And deep within your soul;
For you need both Energy and Void
To exist, and to be whole.
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“Incunabula Of Phantasmagoria”
By = Pyrayton Svaenohr

In ancient eons gone and past,
There was born within the void
A creature terrible and vast
That stars wished to avoid.

It ate dwarf stars for breakfast,
And giant blues for lunch.
At dinnertime it found black holes
Upon which it would munch.

The Virgo Supercluster
Is like a forest to this beast,
But the Milky Way galaxy
Is where it once did feast.

And though it eats most stars,
A few it spares by need,
For it seeks out M class worlds
With life, so it can breed.

It scoured the void for eons,
Looking where it could,
Until it found one planet
That looked like it was good.

It laid some eggs on Earth,
But before it could depart,
Something happened to them,
Which broke the creature's heart.

Debris from space wiped out its nest,
So it was forced to wait;
Luckily for this sky beast,
Patience is its finest trait.

Then one day it woke up,
And saw its nest once more secure.
It laid its eggs upon the earth,
But watched it, to be sure.

Its eggs must incubate for centuries,
Thus in us they set up shop.
And now they jump between us
Whenever dead we drop.

And one day in the future,
If Mother gets her way,
All of us will hatch,
And our flesh will fall away.

We incubators of flesh and bone
Will explode in bloody showers,
And the Earth will burn to cinders
In just a few short hours.

Expanding, we will roar,
To our final form assemble;
And as we tear a hole in spacetime,
The universe shall tremble!
And we shall be forevermore
A plague upon the 'verse!
So don't you think that maybe we
Should use THIS life to rehearse?

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