There was nothing.
There was everything.
A droplet of water fell from a leaf near a brook. A myriad of lights shimmered on its surface as it traveled downward. The world was reflected in that single droplet—the rivers, mountains, valleys, cities, love, hate, and eternity. Then, the droplet turned into runes, and they disappeared shortly after.
The clouds gathered in the sky, water ran beneath the ground, and a breeze made its way through the mountains. There was nothing that he did not witness except for himself.
He, as defined by himself, was a thought of the world. There are moments where he forgets that he is a separate being and others where he tries to gather himself.
Silent despair takes over the world, as he fails again to be. There is no answer to his desire, result, and end. It was hard to understand how long he had been in this state and for how long it would last.
"Maybe there is no start, and no end, just like existence."
