I can move mountains.
I can fly over oceans and dive into their depths. I can feel the cold water and pick up pieces of the sandy floor to take back to the surface.
I have entered new worlds. I have heard the cries of creatures unknown and met people that will never exist. I have lived in impossible civilizations.
I have created worlds of my own. I have taken nothing but the dust of a city lost to time and scattered it across the landscape, watching trees and grass spring from the barren ground.
I have held roses, accepting the pain the thorns cause to feel the beauty in the petals for myself. I have held the world on my shoulders and heard its people shout their hate for me. I have wandered through deserted streets searching for things nonexistent.
I have glimpsed the gates of Hell.
I can move mountains. And yet I don't.