Time is fragile now. My memories and dreams still drift back to a time where it had begun to slow down, where it’s very essence could be seen shifting like gel, lava, even poison coming to a standstill. But it had all led up to these moments that are before me now. And it is these moments that lie at the edge, the end of a reality, for soon all that remains will fall into crisis and what shall remain past that moment will eventually give way to whatever these final fates desire.
I shall soon mourn for those of us who still remain, because long since have black waters swept through, drowned and consumed, and long since has the line of suns begun to be slain – long since has all with merit has gone, leaving us with nothing left to lose, and nothing left to love. In these fragile moments, where everything begins to die, and the color begins to decay – I can feel the violent sense of reality begin to settle in once more, but this time it seeks to break free. This time, it seeks to splinter itself into a million pieces, only to become so entirely different from the whole that it once will had been. There is a chilling here that is like no other, a chilling of the void, as it calls and beckons. For the cold is coming and it starts with me, and this sun shall soon meet it’s end, and darkness once again will reign free.
