🙡 I. Creation 🙣

The world so dark it wasn't there

            Or was it light? We cannot say

            For neither way 'twas everywhere

Perhaps it was eternal gray

            Yet all our words we know are not

            Sufficient to this thing portray—

Then non-existence had a thought.

            And as the only thing around

            The thought itself, itself it wrought

And half to sleep, existence bound

            And half awake, the watch to keep

            The world, the stars go ever 'round.

            🙡 II. The Naming of Time 🙣

And looking on her greatest feat

            Which was, which had not been before

            The Watchful One thought long and deep.

The concept at the matter's core:

            That change cannot be brought about

            Without the aid of time. What's more,

To measure time at all without

            A difference 'tween the past and now—

            Impossible, beyond a doubt.

            🙡 III. Life 🙣

Then came the Second Thought of how

            If time alone a change compels

            She could that power thus endow

Unto the very things themselves

            To go, and change, and so return

            As ev'ry start an end foretells.

            🙡 IV. Logic and Free Will 🙣

Yet still within her longing burned

            Until the realization dawned

            It was for company she yearned

Although the task was not beyond

            Her vast control, her hand she stayed

            To closer watch the world respond

When time was ripe, two gifts she made

            With Reason first, to guide the way

            Down paths which she had long since laid

And, second, Choice, in hopes that they

            Their selves might separately define

            And wander not too far astray.

            🙡 V. Fae 🙣

The heirs of all those gifts divine

            The children of those Second Thoughts

            How quick their mem'ry did decline—

Yet what a fascinating lot

            To make so much of simple fate

            When origin's all but forgot

Strange folk, indeed, who can't create

            Except en masse, unconsciously

            While comprehension comes but late

And thinking hard, they thoughtlessly

            Create, dismiss, the proof they seek

            Of their inborn divinity.

            🙡 VI. Determination 🙣

When looking on, you can't critique

            That honest, raw tenacity

            Which is, perhaps, not so unique

And coupled with vivacity

            Is surely sign that any deed

            Is well in their capacity.

            🙡 VII. Desire 🙣

In one, at least, they did succeed

            When as a group they had the Thought

            Of Want, which, ranging up through greed,

Caused them to be with feeling fraught

            Which, in its turn, is cause entire

            Of almost all they since have wrought.

            🙡 VIII. Conflict 🙣

It is accepted that Desire

            Within the fae has led them to

            Indulge in competition dire

But though the concept's naught but true

            It wasn't necessarily

            The fae who first thought up the two

(This path I tread but warily)

            See, Second Thoughts led to the fae

            Yet there is some disparity

In that those Thoughts themselves were made

            In answer to great loneliness

            Or naught but curious essays

And if the last, then fae success

            Is in the Third Thoughts common termed

            And if the first, then our distress

Is shared with her, it is confirmed;

            Though in the end, it matters not

            As everything's to her returned.

            🙡 IX. Chaos 🙣

For time will make it clear we've brought

            Our own destruction on ourselves

            And in the end, all will be naught

Yet even in these short-lived spells

            Of life, we have contrived to grow

            And learn, and not be overwhelmed

And once we've learned all we can know

            We must ourselves at last prepare

            And as we came, so then we'll go.

            🙡 X. Creation 🙣

Our world so dark, no longer there

            Or light? We cannot truly say

            For neither way, will everywhere

It be, and very much the same

            Until, in time, there comes the spot

            When as it was, it is again:

When non-existence has a thought.