Infinite—Ephemeral. Eternal—Bounded. Divine—Hellish. Metaphysical—Substantial.
I am none and all these; often, the difference between them.
It was from my image I planted them. Flawless seeds grew to perfection in the sun’s warmth. From God they were born as gods they became, scaled to size in their domain.
And on the seventh day, weary, I rested.
An eternity was dreamt until the next where I woke and found change had not brought past. Time was immortal, my nightmare, my reality come true, so I bestowed the world the gift of life.
A curse to be named of death and of shame, for they too can share in my emptiness, my pain
Ugliness though it may reveal—violence, hunger, sadness, filth—beauty is in the balance found between our chaos. The chaos they were born with, the chaos within their very creator.
But my gift, one of love, was something I dreamed into existence and shared in mortality’s form. Love for and from is theirs to learn and mine to crave, alone.
To be all and none at all is a journey made in solitude; no end to imagine. The sweet relief they find in certainty, I believe, will forever be unknown to me.
They must give thanks to its inevitability. For some can only dream of an end to all that seems.
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