Immortalized

 I longed to be great, to leave an unavoidable footprint behind, altering the pathway of the world completely. The constant goal of so many, the beacon so tantalizingly near and yet we slip as our fingertips just begin to brush it. Immortality. The very word promises greatness, a higher level of power.

 The darkness inside me made me aware early on that my days were numbered and feverishly, I sought to weave myself into the fabric of the world. When my thread at last was cut, I wanted no one to be able to pull my memory loose. I dreamed freely, boundlessly roaming across galaxies of possibility and endless words, plucking at them as a master harper plucks golden cords.

 Born for greatness, to be great, speak great unuttered things and to do great and terrible things. The endless ocean of words was wild to me at first but I quickly learned to swim, bending the weaves under my stubborn will. Across parchments now crumbling I wrote my first collected thoughts, shaping and remolding them until their form pleased my eye.

 Like a great collector of butterflies, I captured words out of the endless sea and chained them to countless pages, to display and beautify the world just a little more. Ceaselessly I worked, ever reaching higher for those words just out of view, greater still. Against the clock that haunted my days, I gathered all I could and wrote with sweat and blood.

 I longed to be great and my deepest fear was that my dreams would never be given life, making me the greatest fool to ever live. When the darkness at least overtook my already faint light, I truly thought I had failed, drifting from memory and thought forever.

 For so long I remained a dark nothing, but then, oh glorious day, a reanimation! My words painstakingly collected, molded and set were found, revealing and reviving who I was and am. And then I knew without a doubt, with the greatest satisfaction, that I was not a fool at all: I had become immortal.