I've seen the future in my dreams
I've felt the soft waves
The subtle pressure of other days
It's a soft touch between the vale
hands that are not hands but memories
of unhappening things and could-have-beens
A weightless formless multitude of possibilities
without shape or direction or intention
but boundless unfathomable potential
Like soft waves
and subtle pressure
in my mind
I can feel the heartbreak
of a hundred thousand ageless gods
As they look through the wavering vale
and cry out in dreadful sorrow
Their vision in some twist of fates or sour luck
cut through the myopia and fell upon this existence.
The godless nature of our reality struck them
In a manner they could not have conceived or foreseen.
Gods don't have souls
but what piece of them exists within the vale
The persistence of this world is wrong in their eyes.
There is nothing quite as sad as a gods weeping
And whether it is for fear or grief they cry
I know not
The wailing crowds the vale nonetheless
And though it is unnerving at times
Every now and then all the voices come together
And bleed through the vale
melding into a harmony unlike any other
an exquisite choir of otherworldly angels
The wonder of a gods fear and horror
It is like nothing else to one who
has touched the vale
It is like joy refined and magnified, then multiplied
Schadenfreude at a gods expense is like heroine to an addict;
dangerous, but magnificent, and it makes life just a little better.
And though it is magnificent at times
One hopes, I hope, that these gods will one day
lose sight of this reality.
So that we may drift at peace within the vale
Perhaps to find ourselves among like worlds in time
Godless realities, a multitude of instances
born without the existence of divinity.