I was once a god.

Long ago, when gold was traded for cows

And cows were made of gold.

No one reading this was alive

To know who I was

Or what I did to be forgotten.

Now I lie in my temple

Lined with ruby’s and marble

But nobody comes anymore.

This place is overgrown with vines and weed.

I hate it here.

It was once a place to connect to those who gave their everything for me.

For my empire.

Now it’s a reminder that I am no longer the god I use to be.

Because what is a god, without its people?

Nothing.

I am nothing.

An entity of the past, withering away in my former glories.

I was once a god.

Once.