I am the whisper that you bellow sermons to each other to drown out. The unmarked grave amidst the splendid carven monuments celebrating your own righteousness. The enemy of civilization and the eventual end of it; and yet the beginning of it as well, its seed and its spark, for what is civilization but an attempt to bind me and blind me and deny me my due and even my very existence? Fear of me has spurred you and your ancestors to heights otherwise beyond your imagination and your attainment. And yet, for all your striving, the seed will inevitably fail , and the spark will die, or flare into conflagration. And in that time, in the ashes of of your hopes, I will come to you and you shall know me for what I have always been.

And then you shall begin the cycle anew, as has happened again and again for more Epochs of this world than there are stars in the sky.