Chapter 1: The Diminishing Echoes of Divinity

In the vast ocean of existential inquiry, I often find myself navigating thoughts that many share. This quest is an intrinsic part of the human experience, wouldn't you agree?

Through the ages, under the constant watch of the sun, humanity's transient existence has unfolded. Our understanding of reality is merely a reflection of our own perspectives — a philosophical stance I firmly believe in.

What might our world have appeared like through the eyes of our ancestors? Those who have long since turned to dust, some having pursued futile endeavors while others made noble sacrifices. What we inherit from them are mere remnants: fragmented phrases, rudimentary sketches, and the ruins of grand temples dedicated to deities who now exist only in the archives of obscurity.

Where, one might ask, do these once-immortal beings now rest? Who tends to the sacred spaces that once celebrated their grandeur?

Long ago, in a time obscured by history, Jupiter reigned supreme, his commands absolute to anyone who dared to exist. Yet today, who still kneels before Jupiter?

And what of Huitzilopochtli? Just a few centuries ago, countless lives were sacrificed at his altar. Nowadays, his name, if it survives at all, lingers only as a whisper among those isolated souls wandering the South American wilderness, lost in both time and sanity.

Huitzilopochtli, alongside his divine kin, claimed no earthly progenitor. His mother, a figure of purity, was said to have been conceived by the sun itself — that blazing sphere that governs our days. When displeased, the sun would cease its journey; his fury could fracture the earth, and his thirst was quenched only by rivers of human sacrifice. In our present time, however, he exists merely as a nostalgic figure, his formidable name reduced to the margins of children's textbooks, alongside Osiris, Nut, and Wotan.

Let us also remember Tezcatlipoca, Huitzilopochtli’s formidable sibling, who was reputed to demand an annual tribute of twenty-five thousand virgins. Where can I find his resting place to offer my tokens of respect?

Regrettably, the final resting spots of Quetzalcoatl, Tlaloc, and their divine comrades remain enigmas. Where are the graves of ancient deities like Dis, once revered by the Celts of Caesar's era? Have the remains of Epona, the sacred mare, received the reverence they deserve?

Worry not, dear reader, for these deities are not alone in their eternal repose. The afterlife of forgotten gods is as crowded as any hell, filled with nearly every soul that has ever existed, given the improbability of living in accordance with the stringent rules of the Judeo-Christian God.

The ancient pantheon, from Damona to Sulis, once commanded vast legions of worshippers, their whims dictating the fates of mortals. Temples were constructed, stone upon stone, as a tribute to their splendor, while the priesthood thrived, interpreting their divine will.

To question their intentions often led to dire consequences, frequently resulting in fiery deaths or execution. Kingdoms clashed, blood flowed, all in their revered names.

Yet, as time marched on, their echoes faded, leaving no one to grieve their loss. Their very graves, lost to the sands of time, deny us the opportunity to pay our respects.

And what of Setekh, the lord of the Nile, or the multitude of deities whose names once inspired both awe and terror? Once rivals to Yahweh and equals to Thor, they now lie in the dust of history, alongside Gwydion, Odin, Mars, and countless others. These beings, once draped in omnipotence and cloaked in eternal reverence, have become mere footnotes in the grand narrative of existence.

Remember their names, for they were once as tangible to our ancestors as the very air we breathe. They were indeed omnipotent, omniscient, and immortal.

Today, however, they are gone. All of them.

Isn't there a tragic beauty, a poignant irony, in the mortality of the immortal? The gods of old, once masters of the elements and the fates of humanity, now find themselves confined to the realms of myth and memory.

Ah, such is the destiny of divinity, left to be recalled by a forgetful humanity.

Section 1.1: The Legacy of Forgotten Deities

As we ponder the legacy of these ancient beings, we can't help but reflect on their influence on humanity's collective consciousness.

Chapter 2: A Glimpse into the Afterlife of the Gods

The first video titled "Claymorean - Eulogy for the Gods (2021)" offers an artistic interpretation of the themes of divine mortality and the passage of time.

The second video, "[Warriors of Ammolight] Eulogy of the Gods Thaleia," further explores the poignant themes surrounding the forgotten deities and their relevance in today's world.