Birth.

Exploration.

Creation.

All the things it did.

Joy.

Wonder.

Excitement.

All the things it discovered.

Loneliness.

Desperation.

Isolation.

All the things it felt.

Exasperation.

Frustration.

... Possibility?

All the thoughts it had.

Gathering.

Focus.

Power.

All the things it was familiar with.

All the things it discovered.

All the things it felt.

All the thoughts it had.

All the things it was familiar with.

Came crashing down.

Light flooded the planet.

It breathed.

Loneliness.

Desperation.

Isolation.

No more.

Joy.

Wonder.

Excitement.

Had replaced it.

Life.

Time went on.

Exasperation.

Frustration.

No possibility.

War.

Hate.

How could have it created such a thing?

But it still loved them,

For aeons and aeons,

It will always love them. 

~*~

Word count: 73.

A/N: For some reason, this prompt felt like a poem to me, but I can't write those so... half poem? XD

*Casually makes this spiritual at the end and completely goes off the prompt* Um... oops?