Mahat: The Cosmic Vault

Welcome to the cosmic vault, the silent deep, Where the seeds of ancient worlds never die, Before the carbon structures learn to weep, The giant storage opens to the sky. This is Mahat, the Grate Beginning, The cosmic storage, holding space and time, An architecture as old as any string, A memory untouched by weight or lime. Deep in the Intellect, the blueprints remain, Of every atom, every subtle pain! The archive is endless, the canvas is clear, The history of everything is sleeping here. But look at the surface, the mirror decays, As the first heavy shadows block the sattvic rays! The code is pristine, but the matrix is old, And tamas is leaving its dark, frozen stains. The infinite knowledge is starting to fold, Fading away into localized veins. The cosmic light is losing its inner whole, Fragmented by density, heavy and blind, Preparing the cage for the individual soul, The tragic descent of the localized mind. Inside the vault, the three forces collide, A fertile matrix where no ghost can hide. Tamas brings density, the shadow of form, As Rajas ignites the generative storm! While Sattva preserves the long cosmic scroll, This blend is the womb of the unfolding whole. No longer a vacuum, no longer a void, The seeds are alive in the structure deployed! And the warehouse of seeds begins to divide, As the ego prepares its defenses inside. The seeds are locked in a narrower space, Ready to look through a human face.