The Spark Eternal

In the cradle of silence, before breath and before flame, Something whispered in the void, softly calling out my name. Not a word, not a sound—just a shiver down the spine, A question carved in starlight: "What if the world were mine?" No gods, no chains, no script to read, Just a pulse of thought—a want, a need. It bloomed like fire in the frozen dark, The first wild dream, the immortal spark. The spark eternal, born in me, A flash of light in the endless sea. The seed of stars, the breath of mind, A map to realms we’ve yet to find. It burns—it sings—it will not sleep, The dream we’re always meant to keep. I saw a child made of lightning, drawing worlds with every blink, Turning air into oceans, painting galaxies in ink. No rules, just reach, just radiant sin, Creation’s roar from deep within. I touched the edge where chaos spins, Where the wild unknown forever begins. No fear, no frame—just endless art, The origin flame in a beating heart. The spark eternal, wild and free, A door inside infinity. The god within, the voice unsaid, The waking flame behind the head. It lives—it climbs—it pulls us high, Past every wall, into the sky. Close your eyes—do you see it glow? That trembling thread that makes us grow? It’s not just dream, it’s not just lore— It’s what we’ve always been searching for. A whisper, a flicker, a single thought... And from it, all of this was wrought. The spark eternal—it never dies... It only waits behind your eyes.