Humans,
were powerful.
Thousands,
ran across the land.
Mystic's,
altered energy,
with the palms of their hand.
Oh,
to witness.
To,
see these beast.
To,
be tethered to beings,
which mastered,
the art of being.
Such,
was the human,
yesterday.
Such,
was their entirety.
Oh,
lightning be tethered to,
their tongues.
Wars,
raged.
Wars,
tethered to God's.
For,
glory be,
one's main,
satisfaction.
For,
dying of course,
must happen.
Be I,
one which died.
Sword,
right in my,
left eye.
Right,
after I torn the head,
off a glorious lads,
neck.
Oh,
the life's,
I've lived.
To,
be plucked from nothingness,
again.
To now,
live among these,
intensely weak beings.
Oh,
how such,
has always troubled me.
To,
hear the weak,
speak as if they,
teach.
To know,
they're all subconscious beings.
To know,
they've altered human progression,
now regressing,
into nothing.
But,
at least I can write.
Within,
Two thousand years,
I'll be back.
Back,
from the void.
And,
the entity I exist tethered to,
shall be innate.
Shall,
be the "Ubermensch."
The,
"Superman."
©yungb123
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