God's Hidden Child

The pierce never heard, humanity extracted from its wound. The necessitude of survival dulling the periphery. Taking refuge in the Mother and Fathers creation, open here, searching. Watching Mother's world from my sanctuary with great apprehension. Recording it's workings, trying to make sense of its beastly mannerisms. I immerse fingertips from sanctuary to feel pull of mass. The double slit sees me. I am scared and alone in this place. Mother's father's wound still reverberates. I stay in my Father's vestibule abscent key to release.