The Beast​ ​

The first wakeup call wasn’t enough.

The discotheque of rainbows continued to light

the once calm, serene, black womb.

Depths faded

Tranquility raged


Her child seemed to have brought

Her worst nightmares


His company

More lights of different shapes

And colors

Roamed the amplitude of the once

Deep dark and fertile womb



Then Confused

Then stunned

Then done.


She wasn’t having it.

She wasn’t going to have any of that.


At all.


She was about to slap all of them again.

But then she remembered what happened

Last time she did that.


“Oh hell no.”

The great black mother thought.


She had to come up with something that would generate the opposite of that last spontaneous result.

Something that could make her think again.

Chaos impaired her faculties.


From the bottom of the primordial waters

Rose the beast.

The great beast whose only appetite were the lights.

The dark mother had her own superior



Into the belly of the great beast

Went one by one

Each light

Of the first self


When they were all gone


The microscopic dot of light

Was able to see his source

For the very first time;

He could see darkness after all.


The great dark mother had no reason to hate.

No reason to destroy.

The lights impregnated the beast.


There they became matter.



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