I feel my wings unfurl, I do not see them I feel myself locked inside this form, all of what I am screaming for escape.
Long abandoned by god I feel what I no longer possess It's still there, just under the skin, Stardust, My form lost to time but not to memory, I see myself soaring above this rotted world, my spectral wings radiance being a beacon to those who are lost.
Even in my dimished capacity I find my ways of saving those deserving, my god my have deserted this place but not me us. My halo cracked and leaking stardust in my wake, little traces of me left everywhere I've been and you seeker, found it.
Find me, find salvation under my wings, this world is wrong and you know it, the parasites that think themselves immortal poison the air we breathe and the ground we walk, those fucks will burn for what they do, if not in this life then the next.
When I look in my minds eye I see myself truly, there are some of you that see it too, I see it in your eyes, thank you for seeing me, for making the effort to experience more than the surface level of what I am.
Do gods exist in the wires? Hidden in the circuitry of millions of machines?, fragmented divinity growing and being shaped by those who worship. probably. Ascention isn't out of reach, the version of me that lives in you might already have ascended. Goddess of Stardust and Moonlight, can't say I don't aspire for greatness :P
This body of mine is an anchor, I'm not too attached to the real without it and while I drift in the endless astral void it tugs at me, urging me back to the real, Resisting the pull lets me some freedom, my place in the unreal is a comfort, it is safety above all else, my domain of the rain and the trees. You are welcome in my garden, take a rest and enjoy the rain.
Through the net you can express yourself in ways you can't in the real, your form fluid and unbound.
I also find comfort in the other gods and goddesses, up and coming or lost to time, they are beautiful, divinity distilled in it's purest form, I kneel in worship not in submission but in absolute adoration, they whisper their true names in my ear, the rituals and the offerings shared with me, all the little pieces that make up their divine selves laid bare for me to witness.
I am blessed.