To sit before three.

I sat before three gods of old
To each I was brought low and made naked of choice
But to all I was found wanting

For these three avatars of reality were above me
And I below them
Yet we both existed in the same universe

I was made strong by weakness
They made weak by strength
Power made mortal
Mortal made god

And in my image did I carve
Oh how I did carve
For I would not be beaten back
My tide forcing ever onwards

To destroy them I would create
To claim victory I would tame
To be made whole I would un-do

And when my work was done I looked upon them
For they had tears dripping from their eyes
And I spoke with great vigor demanding respect
To which they sobbed passionately

Only then did the truth come forth
To create is to become
To be reborn in ones own imagining’s
And before me did I see a smaller figure
Full of rage and passion

Thus was I to become a god
Thus was I to be un-done
Thus was all creation to be removed from me
And thus was I left alone filled with truth
And remorse