Remember me and what I came to be when the dark moon rises, when it cascades it’s beams and it shadows across the land – across this place within a shattered time that is a part of no era, that it a part of no advent, that is a part of no point in history at all. It is like a plateau drifting within the void, spiraling down towards blackened waters much like the dark-pool that I had once embraced. These day’s are nothing but endless pain, filled with an endless yearning; or an infinite sense of longing – for something that will never be. During the darkest corners of these darkest nights, I still drift in and out of time, in and out of sleep in hopes to find a beacon to this all, in hopes to reach a conclusion that should far outweigh the strife and struggles that presents itself to us today, but alas – such a glimmer of hope is not found.
There is no reason for me to ever believe that this will improve, no reason for me to ever believe that the ages will be born anew, no reason for me to ever believe that a new life awaits. For while new life has always innately came with a promise of it’s own, I have seemingly been shut out of such possibilities, leaving my very soul starving for a manifestation of solace that it will never see. With this, I have long since devoted the rest of all I am to the darkness that surrounds, and to the blackness that devours. It fuels me with the strength, and with the convictions to continue onwards. For within it, I am able to slow this fading to the best of my ability, and while the pain of the flames continues to grow with each passing moment – it remains to be a small price to pay for the continuation of my sanity..for the continuation of my existence.
Let it be known that in time, this starvation, these longings, and these yearnings will grow to immeasurable measures – to infinite lengths. They will no longer be able to be contained, and that will find a place of their own within this darkness, and they will grow, they will spread far outside of my control. It is ironic in a sense, for in a place that is so far from a state of being, so far from a sense of purpose, so out of touch with time – it seems fleeting and fragile time is the only thing holding the line between my fading reality – and the infinite state of oblivion.
