Born Knowing

15 Nov

In the heights and depths of profundity,
Lay wrapped in a blanket of emotions,
A baby.
This baby, born with a special gift
Its tears told stories,
Its gibberish, destinies.

The baby was born in a paradox,
It knew all and it knew nothing at all.
It neither grew wiser nor taller.
Like mere showpieces it lay where it did.
In a cradle of creation.

Born knowing, into a lineage unlike its own.
Its eyes had never opened to see the world which was its prison.
And in this darkness, drooled the drops of history.

First the world was flat,
It became then so soon round.
Without questioning it accepted.
The baby was born knowing all that man ever knew.

Does this thing called ‘man’ know all?
Or is he deluded; rather knows nothing at all.
This baby: Mankind. A race unlike its own.
Raised to destroy itself.

The baby in its cradle, awakened.
Split into three; the fates.
The creator arises. Lifts the cradle.
And with a hush its off.
A civilisation is built.

The preserver, gets to work.
Civilisations given gifts.
Preserved for posterity.
The preserver has done his job.

And when the going gets tough,
The destroyer is up and about.
Nothing has remained.
This little baby, its skin bright with hope.
Is all these three.
Is it born knowing?

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One Response to “Born Knowing”

  1. Mitch Ardd November 25, 2012 at 2:38 am #

    Hey sweet heart from a girlfan contunue the fab content

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