A land of hopeless despair.
The emptiness was everywhere,
There was no love or care;
For once again, naught was there.
Then what happened, if you believe:
In the land grew, something to perceive;
That, perhaps, would never leave -
Unless the vision does deceive.
Form the white, there came a spring.
An inky flow it did verily bring,
Evident as a bumblebee`s biting sting.
Black water gave life to many a thing.
There was verbosity, and diversity in liquid manifestation;
With intelligent gestation, it enacted dream`s creation.
No cessation to the diurnal divination of imagination;
Without placation, ink pursued poetic procreation.
Slowly seeping into the smallest spaces:
Those once silent, spacious places
Completely consumed, as the current paces -
As the creative flow cultivates and races.
Before most knew, the once empty land, grew.
Once desolate, now flourishing with things new.
Animals crawled and sprawled, birds up high flew;
On a ground glorious and green, and sky bright and blue.
One last thing for the waters to do,
Which is:
To show this land, to all of you!
Composed By: Andrew Drucker
