Deep in the outer crevices, far away from the inner city, shadows met with chill creep through window seals. The echoes in my mind which once whispered the words the cold is coming, repeating again and again, much like the codes in numbers that still beckon even now everywhere I look – seemingly leading towards a prophecy in and of itself. The silence during times like these is deafening, for the only things heard are faint whispers of those who have long since gone under, and the very reverberation of memories that now spread out across this vast, yet shattered concept of time that remains before us now. But this is all where the stage is set, this is all that has been birthed from the end, this is the after-image of all things that shall precede the full fruition of fates, the true fade to black, for in the end darkness comes for everything.
All that I’ve witnessed that has fallen before me is all that has also paved the way to all that is taking place now. For since the final fates begun to beckon and since they were bestowed I could not shake this inner growing of something much more sinister, something much more evil, festering, growing, evolving – eating away at what I once was, yet at the same time clinging to what I was to become. But even know as the fates gather to watch me drown, with numbers and codes repeating something much more cryptic, and much less sentimental that I would expect – I can feel the separation I once felt, all those eras ago, return in a way, in a force, with a grasp much stronger now than ever before.
We’re all invited to witness the closure of this end as this reality begins to warp and wraith in ways completely new to me. I cannot say that it will be missed, though even still I find myself recalling what memories that still cling to me of this all, memories from dark nights before the cold settled in, ones of lust, chase, violence – all only to be followed by piercing silence repeating, that still haunts till this very day. We are all spiraling within the grasp of cycles, cycles that in which must now come to an end. For as reality from all around begins to shake and become unstable. the things we once used to cling to and hold dear begin to fall – crumbling and disintegrating within the black below. The black that has been here all along, the darkened waters that exist only to drown and consume. Waters that shall soon flood what is left of this fractured line, ushering in what is to come – the fruition of final fates.
