.cloud ix.

Pulled out of a meaningless dream

To possess such power

That I may crack like the moon

And leak galaxies,

Bodies of milk that are unforgiving in their might,

What is omnipotence to a slave?

I don't even bend.

Instead,

I see the souls of men

Beaming from their bellies

As though they've all swallowed dying stars,

I know I have the power to blow out those eternal flames,

How do I know?

How do I see?

How many worlds could I end by breathing enough?

My lungs seem to hold aliens now,

There are gods seeping out of my mouth to enchant,

I feel I know too much.

I could speak and melt nations.

My power may enslave.

Humanity and I are incompatible now.

I've touched the glass between mortal and Maker,

But it feels like climbing a cumulonibus cloud and finally reaching that heavenly Himalayan high.

Holy.

Peaceful.

Free, I am no longer a slave.