The Black Hole

There is a part,
Not like the whole,
Thatís hidden deep inside,
Tied to the core.

Something quiet and dark,
Pure, without a mark,
Deep within the heart,
Alone and always stark.

The black hole is growing,
The black hole is growing,
Without reason, rhyme or knowing,
The black hole is growing.

copyright max rael 1999. all rights reserved