what is it like to be a god

what is it like to be a god?

i think it must be lonely to be a god.

i think you would tire of the murmured prayers and desperate pleas.

how exhausting it must be to hear all those dreams—and know that some will be left unfulfilled.

are there other gods? do they speak with you?

or do you each sit alone, in your respective space, weeping tears onto the continents below?

i think some of those tears are happy, but most are not.

when gods are lonely, what do they do?

i think each planet is a discarded result of idle hands and spinning minds.

i think constellations are the elegant drips of paint left by a careless god.

somewhere out there, in the great existence, is a masterpiece i long to see.

loneliness is a silent killer, but can a god die?

maybe gods just start to fade, becoming cosmic dust, bit by bit.

i think some of them die here, on this earth.

they slip under the surface of the ocean and sink into the depths.

when the waves roar, it is because they mourn their creators.

what is it like to be a god?

i think it is the loveliest, saddest existence imaginable.