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When the firmament succumbs to its wounds
and the atrophied sun reclaims its path…
When night looms over a battered cosmos,
and the empyrean howls with death…

When the ruins of sentient life
have been eroded away by time…
When the age of writhing flesh
has decayed into the dark…
When the cinders of humanity
Have been reduced to smoke
like ash in space...

A new star will form,
where time is still…

When the last voice has spoken,
as the final knell chimes...
and the winds of time
weather the faces of the aeons-dead...
When the glint of starlight
is but a distant dream...
When the world reclaims its silence…

I will tread the ether.

I will swim the sea of runes
as blood in the beating heart of space
I pray for the ether
to weave its vast nebula
and once again yield
to the whims of living things.

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