Drifting in a timeless haze, alone.
Thick and slow, like the heavy waters of the deep.
A haunting strain of distant music – a single note amid the churning whisper recalls a thread of memory long lost, and reminds of what is no more.
No chorus of angels sings eternal praise, nor glow of Light and Harmony, nor peace.
It is an empty, barren ocean, an endless shifting nothing, crushing under the cutting shards,
fragments of time in eternity, crystaline moments in a timeless rush,
of what is no more.
What is it like, on the other side?