( MeqoDesign, Beautiful Nightmare ) When the setting sun revealed its vow above the dusk on the horizon’s edge it ushered in the hours of darkness behind its hallowed cradle and I found myself rapt by the creatures stepping out, flying above, hopping around, speaking the incantation of nature, without weapons, without the injustice of a loveless power, without questioning the reality that brought them here. To them, paradise is this moment, this minute, this flash, this present time of worship, now, this instant, not in a while or when called away to eversleep. Beasts moving within the cycle of life, upon the one thing, the only Home they’ve ever known, smile at the sustenance found within their original dwelling, the only paradise they’ve ever dreamed… or imagined. Even if it’s merely this time around, this chance, it’s not in vain, for the animal hasn’t a need to know, or time to be bothered with why, what, who or when. They abide by the unwritten allegiance to being; the
(The Weaver's Song)