Dark Cradle

Me a dark, ray less

source of conscience.

An immortal focal point

in the universe unseen,

unheard since eons.

An intellect unexplored

in any realms of existence.

Untouched by the principles

of ruthless genes of time.

An inhumane emotion

difficult to envisage by

the mortal spirits on terra.

I the origin of the circadian 

rhythm of the cosmos,within

 me lies zillion seeds of 

the substantial shaded truth.

,Masses frenzy in search of me,

a mystery camouflaged in

light,a black cradle of

 the beginning and end.

Creating bubbles of illusion

in delight,me a memory evoked

at death,erased at your first gasp

out of the inky  maternal cell .