When Chaos looks into the eyes of The Void,
Her own reflection resounds just as Her Will folds,
Recreating The Parameter,
As infinite and fundamental as its source.
My Night-Skinned Lord,
In His form of Optimus Linea comes into Being
From the Primordium Linea.
The Line of Existence that is Always Normal,
One that is never reflected nor refracted,
Whichever Medium it may strike.
When The Void looks back into Chaos,
He sees only displacement from what was, to what is.
His own Witness unfolds, recreating a Meaningless Measure,
As infinite and fundamental as its sink.
The Great Line’s consort,
In Her form of Optima, comes into Being,
From Primus Consequentia.
The Measure of Medium and Balance,
One that is always Optimum and Beautiful,
Whichever Eye it may strike.