The Downfall of Your Obsession
You mortal creatures, composed of the same matter as I. Breathing, changing, growing, and living. You mortal being, obsessed with the matter of your mortality; craving, yearning, searching for immortality. You foolish "rational" beings. How you seek to immortalize yourself through me.
You say nothing lasts forever, yet you froget that I am not nothing. I am everything. I am not your God, but I am everything you know. I am the world you occupy. I am the plain you exist on. I am the only thing you are certain of in your mortal life. I was created by your God, and I am immortal because I possess no sense of mortality nor death. I am immortal because I was never born and I cannot die. I was, I am, and I will be.
You and I are created from the same God. We are composed of the same atoms. If I am eternal then so are you. So why do you impregnate my fertile ground with infertile structures? Why do you stab my bleeding wounds with monuments to your name and existence?
When you blink for eternity your flesh, your bones, your existence becomes part of me. You become part of my immortal existence. Do you not see this? Is that not enough? Must all your children known your name? Must all your children look upon the face of your work and remember your life? Is it not enough that your being is in the air they breath, the food they eat, the water that gives them life?
You foolish creatures, your mortality has made you immortal, or don't you see that? Your quest for immortality wounds me and slowly chips away at my my non-existent lifespan. I will live long after you are dead, I will live long after the dust of your bones has finished nourishing my soil, I will continue to live long after I have killed you.
You will be gone your children and your children's children will have passed through the richness of my soil, and still I will breath. I will create air for no one to breathe, and my limbs will bear fruit for no one. My pets will run rampant and free with complete control over my earth.
You will be gone, your monuments will have fallen, your structures will lay dismantled in barren wastelands that I will create. I will tear down your monuments brick by brick. I will construct a morbid shrine to your half existence. Because you wasted your mortal time worried about your immortality when you should have rested in me, and He who created you. You wasted your life worrying about doing instead of being.
And now I am all that remains of His flawless creation; alone and with no purpose.