He fired his gun, and his entire body was overcome with power.
He was enraged to find the strength he’d always imagined he wielded
but never had the proof of.
Staring down firmly at his hands
his fingers crawling inward into grip
he saw the hand of god before him.
I am become predator,
swallower of entire oceans in the face of drought.
I know the merciless face of divinity
as that of natural disaster
and that which I now manifest myself to be.
He quaked at the fire of his own gun,
as in the ripples of the last lake he saw before him the face of Narcissus,
he who refuses to believe the truth about himself.