Mine is a tale as old as time, for I have been here before the rhyme. Before the beginnings of dust and scars, was my energy drifting among the stars. Within the speck of a single thought, the creative will that to life wrought. With thunderous applause by holiest of hands, I was, became; Is, I am. From darkest dawn to piercing set, all that I am, you shan't forget. For this, for you, my story holds true; That what's in store for chosen few, is all that need be carried through. I am not Son, nor holy Lord, but a mirrored image to be restored; To whence I came through Heaven's light, as it shines upon me in dead of night.