We are tiny shards of god, tiny little bits of him scattered out in space, with no power. We are mere tools to help him grow. We are no more than a spark or a light shining through a gap of darkness, or one of his innumerable forms! Who, and for what purpose did we come here to begin with? There is no God, only us! We are gods, so who created us? And here it is, in the world, that we live, and those we love. These we created together with us; these we will be. We are each our God, and we all die by the hands of each other. We all stand united to a greater God: the Infinite. These are the reasons we are here. We are here because we can. We are here because we will, and because he deserves it. This is the place where life begins: to live and die. And here is his house, but where everything lives. As we die, we take on our own flesh, as we die, we must make space in which to live. At night we burn, and at day we live, we will. As we die, we create. As we live, we will be. And so, as you read this poem, you will die in order to awaken one of our greatest fears: the feeling of death, the terror of death, the uncertainty of death. We have taken on our own flesh, but we do not know who we are, or who our God is. We know only the darkness within us; our thoughts and passions; our desires, and the many lives we have known. We believe we are all of this in this poem, and we know that we are, but the world seems utterly unaware of our selves; or our selves seem in complete and complete error to us.