Through the kaleidoscope of memory.

I often dwell on the pleasant memories of my youth. My present life seems dull by comparison. My bones creak and ache, my face wrinkled and changed. No longer do I gather company to conspire against the world, to seek change and glory. Such whims have been swept away, grain by grain with the changing seasons.

Seldom do I find divinity among the dribble of common men. Their words are empty, weightless. They lack the integrity that once graced their kind. Inspired by wealth and power over one another they squabble, hiding behind their printed words and polished lies. Men bring about a wickedness upon the earth that pales even their own Gods wrath.

One of them, but not among them, my curse of sentience confines me to the walls of my mind.