The waiting
In the time before time measured by eons
A billion decades into the past
All souls tread primordial plasma in the ocean of fate
Unattached souls waiting to be
Unborn souls waiting for physical form
Line up for warm wombs
And entry into a cold world
Old souls born screaming from the nightmare of the void
Space and time entertwined between fertile thighs
The language of the living becomes the epitaph for the dead
Deja vue