Long long ago, before the stars, before life and before man

  The world was draped in white

  And on this canvas was a lone drop of ink

  The ink was alone

  And so

  It set off

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  Never looking back

  Never slowing down

  On and on and on it traveled, before the the seas he swam

  And before the earth was formed he trod it

  And so the ink, weary from age

  And incensed from the futility of its efforts

  Cursed the canvas

  For it had nothing

  But a voice whispered into its ears “look back”

  And perhaps in indignation or anger

  It heeded not the voice

  In a fit of rage, continued on

  But the ink had rolled for too long and too far

  And once again in it's last moments it heard a voice “look back”

  So it did

  Behind it was a galaxy of stars, the nebula of creation formed from the black ink of it soles

  And from his body a nebula of colours fell and made life

  And so, the ink was no more