When I look down at what I’ve created, I am astounded.
Not by the flowing rivers, gushing waterfalls, vibrant forests, vivid colors,
but by my masterpiece:
Humans.
I can pretend all I want, use their prayers as examples of my omnipotence.
But truly, what am I without them?
And who are they without me?
What would happen if I left?
Would they fall apart? Cease to exist?
Would waves of guilt and unhappiness rush upon the lands?
Would the world come to an unseemly end?
Or would it go on, thriving, as if I never left?
I wonder, but I cannot bring myself to leave.
Then again, perhaps I already have.
Of course, the question remains.
Did I ever exist in the first place?
Maybe I am a figment of their imaginations.
Their wonderful, lively, brilliant imaginations.
Their cunning, ruthless, vicious imaginations.
Their minds that can shape their lives in any way they want to.
Their minds that can take lives away forever.
Their minds that created me.
Because if a tree falls in a forest and nobody is around to hear it
Did it really fall?
If their minds did not exist to create me
Am I really here?
Am I really?
Am I? ▲