The old song misses us.
Though we may end,
the song continues.
The song exists outside of time.

Another world formed.
Chaos and evil chose its path.
We learn of its mistakes, its glories,
its demise, its persistence.
They lost their song.

Music creates, it destroys.

The gardener sows a seed
and tends to the plant till it matures,
everyone can consume its fruit.
But still the gardener must continue
to tend to the plant
that it may bear more fruit.

The song was first played,
it must continue to be played.

We began with thought.
We flourished with song.
Do we continue with thought?
Should we not flourish with song?