Catastrophe

The dark shadows are surrounding me. Faint beams of light rapidly vanishing into the monotonous dark dance temptingly before my half blind eyes, which struggle to focus on the non existent realms of optimism. My brain reels heavily under the opiates of darkness benumbed by the blinding blows from the counters of repayment. Time has fused into one eternal immobile mass, unchangingly tormenting, burning my insides in the cold fires of retribution for some unknown sin of the past. Even the sounds have died down - to whispers from the tombs of long forgotten kings. The distant spires of civilization crash in a blinding flame spewing to the skies the dust of reek and ruin. Memories rise and fall, each feebler than the last but in some undying and maddening procession.

Carrying my maimed soul on the biers, the bearers walk in solemn silence, unseen save as a dark vapour that grips my soul. The party halts somewhere in the incomprehensible space. An immeasurable chasm yawns infront of me. Presently the bier is raised and flung by formless hands into the heart of the abyss. A foul exhaust rushes around me - encompassing the remains in an aura of perennial decay. Eddying around on great arcs are cold winds, coming and passing in timeless transit. With a rush of incredible shock, I hit the slime of the ages, a dark pool of the undead simmering in the eyeries of time - the house of the immortal worm. I see it as it crawls to devour the remanants of mine.

I sigh and turn the next page of my textbook...