[ WP ] Gods are around as long as they have statues and images of themselves to look out through . Write what happens when their last statue is smashed .

The power I once claimed was no more. 
 
 Oh how I thrived in the age of men who despised heresy. That which they could not describe were attributed to the heaven's graces. Offerings were sought and mortals dropped to their knees in my presence for a sliver of kindness. 
 
 I was venerated, honored by statues and orations... women placed in my temple to be taken. Warriors asked for my guidance in battle. I was feared and exulted. 
 
 But it is no more. Man has forsaken me. 
 
 Money and science, vices and academics have taken my plinth. 
 
 I have no place in this world. 
 
 The last piece erected in my honor has fallen, the last mortal who held me in their conscience sent to the river of souls. 
 
 My power has slipped away... my existence hangs delicately in this world... 
 
 And now, I am nothing.
