Genur.art

In silence stood the faceless dread, With shadowed mien and stars widespread, Upon its palm, the cosmos quailed, Creation poised to be unveiled. No visage bore this void divine, A blank expanse, a darkened sign; Yet in its depths, the heavens swirled, A stellar swarm, an endless world. Its raiment glowed with furred embrace, A robe of steel, of shadowed grace. Magenta's blaze, a spectral hue, Lit stars anew where doom ensued. “I demand your buzz, mortal kin,” The voice within the void begins. A whisper vast, as galaxies weep, Time held still, its soul to keep. The universe, a fragile dream, Caught trembling in its maker’s scheme. One motion more, the end would greet, Creation’s breath, its own defeat.