Dear Diary
Dear Diary, So today I make storms, Do floods, sprinkle snow, All the usual stuff, yer know.
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Dear Diary, So today I make storms, Do floods, sprinkle snow, All the usual stuff, yer know.
Shadows shift as they move from my glance, arrogance fills them, in their condescending stance.
I look down at them. They look up at me. I am the God. They need me to be. They may never know. But I know for sure. I am not the God. Seen in folklore. I won't make myself known.
I miss this world. I'd love to just go back walk in the grass. feel the wind in my face have the sun on my skin warming me giving me hope for tomorrow. the cold kiss of the rain.
(A little metaphorical story) I watched it drop, falling to earth. To craters and holes, it gave birth. Not stopping, just rolling, rolling around. Until God found his remaining pound.
I watched the moon tumble from Gods crafting table, Creating all its craters, through the dust until it stabled. Attaching itself to a little blue and green type world.
I am god Bored of everlasting knowlege,knowing all before hand stuck like watching a mystery movie you have already watched over,and over.