Or The Song of Manichaeus
Before gods stalked the earth, before mind crawled from muck, light fought night. Seasons churned, Sun or Moon. Darkness burned to radiance for world to suck in, to spring forth, to birth. Death bent to mirth when brightness dared again to pluck hope from dread, spurned void unearned and struck the dark from earth. On this longest night, which the victor, which in flight?