Mellow feelings settle in, somehow I can just sense the outcome of what is about to happen. Hours shift once again, yet these is no ceasing to the numbers and codes which repeat on clocks again and again and again. Moment after moment, time and time again, I tell myself that I will escape this, but in truth I have become too consumed. Too consumed by what I have been free from for sometime, consumed by what I had fought to throw away, consumed by what I swore I would never care for again. Perhaps in a way, I have begun to escape, but the feeling is ever-so-slow to manifest, like the receptors have gone bad, or perhaps they are merely no more. But as what remains of this line begins to splinter even further along with the remaining light it holds, I now seek to take my stand, to take what may be my final rising, as the sun begins to hide.
The clouds have long since begun to morph in ways that beckon back to those times before departures. Times during a darker era where shadows marched upon vast lands – their purpose, I had yet not understood. But now these morphing’s are different, now they seek to shelter the very sun they know shall be no more, for there is a final fate of my own that I must bestow upon what remains of this crumbling reality, a destined action of my own that shall set in motion the very final path I must take before the fruition of fates are bound to me. For since the death of the advent, I knew my moments here were fleeting, I knew this form would eventually begin to falter, but in the complexity and chaos of it all I had lost sight, I had lost purpose, I had lose memory of my very convictions to remain. And so now, as the window seals begin to weaken and glimmers of mis-placed fear begin to leave me, I can feel ever-lasting darkness begin to settle in, my mind teetering on the edge of phantomania whilst gazing upon the shadows ahead and the void below. This knowing will never leave me, there is safety in this chaos, and a sense of solace in giving in to what is to happen next. For as I put away this blade I used to slay the former, my hands begin to twitch, a twitch of anxiousness as my eyes fixate on what lies behind the shroud of the skies; for the cold is coming, almost as sure as this sun will die, and what will follow shall bring about the next phase of the darkest nights you have ever seen.
