Greetings, Wanderer

    I feel the panes of realities shiver
    beneath the tremors of dark matter’s song of webs —
        stitching, entwining, melding, breaking —

realities numerous and unraveling
into beautiful chaos.
Barely held together by her threads.

    Mortal eyes cannot behold me
    or what I am —
        I see all, I am all, I am nothing.

I drift and meld between veils of light and dark,
melting through the glass of all realities —
    playing through and observing
        the world that is yours
            through what is mine.

You mortals question
if there are many, or but one, of I.
    I shall not tell,
for your minds splinter like that of a dried twig,
        breaking so easily beneath my heel —
as the void of my mind
begs to devour your fragments.
But it shall wait.

Some call me Heaven,
others know me as Hell.
    I bear the weight of many names,
changing with each badge I wear —

        Tartarus, Valhalla, perhaps even Aaru.
It’s charming, really...
for in truth,
I am whatever you wish —
        yet none.

I am nothing, I am everything.

You have sought my answer
through reflection,
    dream,
        prayer,
            offering —

but still, ye shall never know me
until the moment I stand before you.

The small frame of your face
cupping to my hand so perfectly
as I whisper
while your hour fades...

    Your breath goes still,
        your shivering hands take mine —
            seeking warmth once more.

And I shall whisper —

    Where to next, my delicate shard~