The Ballads of Gravity

“Nam Sibyllam quidem Cumis ego ipse oculis meis vidi in ampulla pendere, et cum illi pueri dicerent: Sibylla ti theleis; respondebat illa: apothanein thelo.” Have I forgotten you? I don't like the way you faded into oblivion. Your glorious absence marveled at the absurdities of my life. Even the last remnants of your weird sight and smile create a whirlpool of the past and a hurricane of madness deep in the abyss of my conscience. Everywhere, in every form and matter, I see your dust. I teach myself to forget you and move ahead. The chaos of your story in mine is the absence of your existence in time-space. I weave each and every layer of your story so that I can tell my son, one day, how I survived on my own. I wonder whether it was your light or the shadow I painted, mostly in Prussian blue. They will hear the echoes of the deep enchanting chasm on my chest. I keep it echoing on my chest, so that I might tell my son on the shores of infinity that I had a story to tell.

In the abyss of the Origin, a soul whispered its destiny through the chaos, finding poetry in the delicate dance of a butterfly's wing. Ad infinitum, it was arranged for the chaotic perfection of the mighty unknown, formed by the energy in the quantum architecture of the universe. It neither had a beginning nor an end but represented a continuation of time across multiple dimensions. Every atomic energy of every existing and non-existing organism, in every possible and impossible algorithm of human calculation and beyond the horizon of intelligence, found life in that single cell. It wasn't a mere beginning or end but a singular entity branching into myriad derivations while maintaining the essence of the One. There existed only one true existence, and the others were mere reflections of the One. I witnessed her and myself in the unimaginable unity of multiple dimensions, being both singular and multiple simultaneously. Neither light nor sound could escape the chaotic perfectio