She exists in nothingness; the one who holds us.
She weeps for us, knowing we are so far away.
She knows we must grow.
We must come back, for we cannot sustain ourselves...
When her tears reach us, chaos erupts.
Order is displaced.
What she takes is given back and what we know
ceases to be.
She never stops creating.
Whatever she gives, becomes our new routine.
Until the next teardrop falls.