Ancient Future Coalescent
Each beginning comes attached to ending.
Anointing the Nameless
(Invoke… Invoking… Invocation…)
They never asked to be gods, but we crowned them with transactions, fed them dividends and deadlines, bandaged wounds wrapped in plastic, and let them grow without names.
We built altars from assembly lines, worshiped in stock tickers and shipping crates.
Called it progress.
Called it profit.
Never called it soul.
But tonight, we speak their true names.
Not to banish them, to face them.
To ask what they were meant to be
before we forgot – we were the priests.
