the last door

[Goonch]

1. ;-{) UNBEING

UNBEING
Before the light, before the breath,
We knew the hollow peace of death.
A billion years of quiet sleep,
In secrets that we didn't keep.
No heavy heart, no stinging fear,
No phantom clock for us to hear;
Just vastness where the self is gone,
A dusk that doesn't wait for dawn.
We emerged from stillness, unawake,
To see the ripple on the lake,
To feel the heat, to taste the salt,
Before the gears begin to halt.
So why recoil from what we knew?
The empty dark is nothing new.
It’s just the home where we began,
Before the spark, before the man.
To be "unbeing" isn't cold,
It’s simply letting go of hold—
Returning to the wordless deep,
A dreamless, safe, and ancient sleep.