The Wound, cut from the flesh of totality — deep, it served the line of future and past . Drawn to its ancient fester, gods swarmed as flies to a corpse. We waited within bloodless veins, faithful to that which we could not know — unable to imaine that we might become their greater.

Here we slept — until our souls became flesh.

I genuinely didn't like this one; might as well delete it, idk.