Of God and Xenomorph

God beheld the emptiness: a void so vast,
A force unspoken, shaping shadows that cast
Through silent depths, a xenomorph’s stride,
Unknown and strange, where enigmas abide.

A hand unseen, the angels say, Hark!
God brought forth the light and divided the dark.
Creatures emerged from this art undefined,
Both strange and vast, with form intertwined.

Phthisis whispered, its breath frail and thin,
A cycle of life where endings begin.
While Phthalein bloomed in colors so rare,
A fleeting trace that still lingers there.

Dualities dance in the cosmos they claim,
Decay and vibrance, no two quite the same.
The peculiar persists, like a hiccough’s refrain,
Echoing softly in time’s vast domain.

A xenomorph then, moves through the night,
Shadowless it prowls, its gaze is a fright.
Fantastical Brobdingnagian in alien art,
A creature forged, yet it tears apart.
Indicant of words, echoing on,
Lingering tones though worlds are gone.
The xenomorph’s actions, brutal, stark,
Shapes cosmic tales in voids so dark.

Each fleeting moment carves its own place,
A paradox woven of chaos and grace.
The xenomorph and God, destroyer and guide,
Form something here where mysteries reside.

The universe spins in beauty and strife,
A dance of the strange, the essence of life.
Through space and time, its intricacies shine,
Destruction and creation in rhythm divine.

Phthisis whispers again in frail breath,
A dance of life that fades to death.
Phthalein stains with vivid hue,
A fugitive tincture, sharp and true.

Through the void, God’s movements on mark,
Creating substance in the depths of the dark.
Creation and ruin inextricably blend,
In a cosmic ballet with no start, no end.

In this vast collection of chaos and grace,
Each fleeting moment carves its place.
Special and rare, these forces malign,
Creation and creator through space beyond time.