Things aren't like the way they used to be, not anymore.
Once upon a time, we flourished; we built ourselves a monument to our own insecurities and spent the time basking in its glory. We spent countless days just sitting in the shadow of that beast we'd constructed, and although we were young and stupid we felt like this was the way the world was supposed to work, and this was the way we were going to feel for the rest of our lives.

Things aren't the way they used to be, no, no not at all.
We were like Gods, we were Gods and every day we would create new worlds and fill them with living and breathing creatures; the shadows of our own downfalls became the days and nights of these universes we would spin.
We were not a collection of singular units, there was only the "We", and the "Us".

We created, and we destroyed, and we thought that it would be Forever. We stood at the edge of what Is and we would scream into the void and nothing would scream back. It emboldened us, and it made us cling to our Monument ever tighter.

That damned monument.
Every time we would create, it would grow. It shone with a billion lights, and each spark was another life in another world from another universe that we had made. It marked our spot in existence as our's; this pillar of brilliance and energy, painstakingly crafted to represent the best in ourselves, and the worst in ourselves. A collection of parts seamlessly woven together from blood and tears.

Things aren't the way they once were.
No.
No, an age ago the night's sky lit up from our brilliance and we would lay underneath it and watch as our creations blotted out the very stars.

We were Gods, and we were young, and it was Good.
Our creations mingled, and evolved, and grew into new life forms that would surprise even us with how they twisted and turned.
Our monument grew.
It grew.
And it grew.
And it grew.

Until the day that one of Us looked at our effigy, and with the last bit of Her energy scribed into it the most complex, awe-inspiring World it had seen yet.
The monument grew, greedily sucking away at what made Her until there was no Her left to be had.

We slept in the shadow of our brilliant Tower, and when we awoke she was no longer there.

Our monument grew.

And not too long after that, my Brother, He stood in front of our Creation of creations and placed his hands upon it, and within its space a new universe was borne; sewn together from the tattered remains of the half-created worlds he had spent time on before.
The Tower drank deep, and my Brother was no more.

And our monument grew.

And one by one, I would wake in the night to see our Brothers and Sisters give every last ounce of Life they had to this thing we had created. It towered over all of us now, and what was once a comforting glow became a sinister beacon.

The Second of us withered away not long after, and in Her departure I found myself in fear, not for myself, but for the Others that this Monument would attract it it.

The First and I left our home on the edge of all that Is, and the glow of what had been Home. Exiled by fear of what was to come, and drawn away by a force neither of us could describe.

Young Gods no longer.

I roamed for countless years after that Great Fall, and every place I laid my head became a nightmare for me. I tried to stay with the First: one night as we laid in the biting cold of the vast Wasteland She told me the story of how She had come to that place, and how She had been touched in a dream by visions of a massive obelisk made of starlight. She told a tale that I couldn't possibly retell here for it wouldn't do it any justice.
And as She spoke, She began to fade.
She begged me to keep to the West, and to never look back at the mistake We had all made
I kissed her cheek and told her that she was beautiful, and when I awoke I found myself holding a bundle of clothing; nothing more.

Since that night I have not seen Her, and part of me believes that She has found happiness in another place.
I couldn't stay away from it though.
I ******** keep seeing Them, when I close my eyes I see Them. I think of the times We had before it all went to s**t.
I think of my Sister's laughter as We would race to create worlds.
My Brother and His goofy smile as He dreamt up fantastical places, and made them into reality.
I see the pulsing glow of the Monument, like a heartbeat.

So here I am, the desert wind licking at my face as the pale remnants of What Was Before mock me.
The Monument is cracked and dead.
The lights have gone out.
It has starved to death, having exhausted its supply.

I just want to be with my Family again, I just want to hear Them and see Them and feel Their comforting words as They envelop me. I want to be a Young God, and I want to not care.

When we stood at the fated Edge to All That Is and we screamed, perhaps whatever is out there didn't respond because it knew that one day, our screams would fade.

Things are not now what the once were.
Times have changed, and they will change again.

Maybe I can kick-start this old thing.
Maybe I can make its brilliance shine, if only for a moment.
Maybe I too will be consumed, and when I wake I'll be with Them again and We can be a We and I can stop being an I.

I never found that inspiration that my Brothers and Sisters had, and I think that's why I had been pushed to leave. I could not feed the Tower because I did not fall into the daze that it needs.
But.
I know what I need to do now.
It has to live, it has to live I have to do this I can't stand being alone any longer.


I will put my emotions into this, I will stare into the heart of our Love and I will not blink because our Love is beautiful and if I look away for even a moment it will tear me apart and They are waiting for Me I will bring them back I will not fail I will see them again and when I do I will not cry because I will not cry because I will not cry because I will not cry because I will not cry becau-