Memories of the Temple

I remember the trolls bleeding bile and burning,
I remember the smoke rolling through the deep,
choking out the darkness, challenging vitality.

I remember the window into heaven,
the nonchalance of those semi-deities,
the break from the norm of slaughter and downward traversing.

The final curtain, the human gods and their fantastical struggle,
the wonder in Kheops' eyes. In my century of life, can I say I have seen stranger?

I remember it all, except ...
Why did I come in the first place?