“Be sorry and sympathetic for my terrible plight! ” Moan the souls in all the realms that revel in their suffering.
“For I am downtrodden and shunned by all others, through naught of my own doing.”
“Watch me at work and marvel, see how I employ my genius and meticulous manipulation!” Croon the rich and avaricious, who hold the shackles of all the decadent and corrupt cities throughout all the ages, “and be envious all! For I have the means to obtain anything my heart desires.”
“Look upon me and my great strength and resolve and be in awe,” say the heroes of many worlds, for in my certainty of my own fate and allegiance, I am all powerful and cannot be beaten!”
“All of that and much more I will not do!” Replied the soul. “Even as I have none of all you claim for yourselves, neither do I wish to.” The soul looked carefully at what it had, it had tasted of many in its short lifetime, but all were unbearably bitter. Not sword nor riches, not unfounded pity neither manipulative power over men, and many, many other things it did not have, but it’s eyes rested on its own pale hands crossed in front of its frail and shimmering body, the left palm facing down and the right facing upward.
“I have seen it all and gladly passed beyond its cloying confines. I have my own useful strengths, not as yours, rooted in the shifting and treacherous emotions of most souls, but rather; in the magik of knowing.”
“Knowing what?!” scoffed all the multitude that shimmered around him.
“That which I could not ever explain, even to my own self.” Replied the soul with real sadness.
Even as the throng laughed and in many different dialects and ways, called it a monumental and eternal fool, it unfurled its huge black wings and slowly returned to its world, where it still lay dreaming.