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When was the last time sun kissed pedestal of mine flourished with offerings — I can't remember. But I remember the pleas, the tears and throbbing hearts ladened with fear, anxiety and uncertainty of life. 

My presence did offer them solace, comfort, self-assured promises of redemption. Did I ever promise them any of that?  No. I never possessed the power. 

Yet those prayers brought me to life, ignited the fire of a presence, gave me the sensations to feel, to care, to weep  silently. I clung to them as much as they did to me. 

And now the door lost its  hinges, the walls forgot the color of their coating, the frames and bars are forever buried under layers of rusts—and my pedestal is overrun by wind grass, happy to occupy the place that was once mine—sacred.  

I wait in silence. The sun still kisses my feet, but it is never enough to warm my cold stone anymore,  for I have lost them and their yearning!  

I am a forgotten god.  


*The photo was created in unreal engine with free to use assets from  quixel  megascans.* 

![](https://i.imgur.com/MnYlqb9.jpg)
Source: @notacinephile 