Just A Lonely Soul

It was one hell of a ride, never knowing what was to come next, or what was after even that. Yet there was always some light, a small light in the Darkness. A hell of sorrow, altruism, death and nothing less than sheer violence. How is it possible that even a simpleton could be pulled into such a world? A simpleton with no sins or burdens, whose only goal is to live out such a simple life; it is possible during such a time that even I could not foretell the horrors that came. A flurry of explosions, blades and murder. Just surviving has become no longer a fact, or possibility, but a single light at the end of the tunnel of Darkness. Running would do no good but end in nothing worse than what had already been witnessed. Could it be this is my final resting place? Among the rock and metal and flesh and time? Among the so many uncounted lost, and not among those that once were not?


There is still that small glimmer. But such a small glimmer, is it enough to keep going? To stand on the edge of what was once life, now death, and conquer? Looking upwards, where so many long before have looked for answers and guidance, offered nothing but the smell of fire and, perhaps, brimstone. A whirlwind of hellfire approaches, leaving in its wake the charred remains of civilization and society. Will anything remain once this Darkness has passed, seeing as how little hope there is? I'm falling of the edge, no sight of the light coming closer. I've lost my way back home, yet it's such a sight. A sight of the past and present, thrown out in front as if a presentation to the world. Yet this is the end. And such a sight, a sight to see, just a lonely soul standing at the end of the world.