So here we are. The seeds have been planted but none have grown.
Still, the reaper comes to harvest what is owed. Promise unfulfilled.
It all ends here, which is everywhere. Now, which is everywhen.
We did give it our all, didn't we? Did we? No matter now. The trumpet sounds.
The collector Death approaches. Each step like a monolith crushing my chest.
I want to warn them but there are none left. I want to escape but here is all there is.
No retreat to the past, it is here now.
This moment is all there is, and this moment is withering.
All that is left is to watch the end of all that is left.
All that ever was.
To watch as the aeons collapse.
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