Through the dawn of night, In the dark of day, Do you stumble through the light, And mumble all the way?For all this, I don’t fear little voices echoing in cascading whispers through the shaded sunset. But the cackling oppressive insight threatening to forge insanity and uncertainty, wringing its hands gleefully, envisions a future swarming with plodding wretches, tainted and undone. The writhing Leviathan, composed of our blackest collaborations, is a charred and roasted thing fueled by souls bathed in unseelie creatures scampering through unsettling shadows of beasts far more disturbing.These shapes, grotesque and horrifying, invade closed eyes, rippling and bulging with eyes improper, and limbs deformed. Pulsating masses give birth to hideous heads and screaming faces unfit and terrible to behold. A pillar of spines twists toward an infinite sky, vaulting a cracked and splintered wasteland, dripping blood-soaked flesh and spray on inhabitants weak and uncaring.Through this oblivion, time passes not at all, known to the unfortunate pariahs trapped in the maelstrom of fervid and voracious detachment. Faithless disquiet smothers this crumbling facade, consumed by history, forgotten and forfeit. Did the lost learn from their experiences here, dead and dust to the ages? Do they teach still, though no trace remains of their greatness or vile lascivious evil? Does anyone care?As the universe is infinite, unbounded too, are possibilities unfound within. What point to experience an insignificant fraction of a percent of a trillionth of an iota, when that knowledge too is dashed upon the rocks of time? We are fools, all.And we are undone.