1 - One

We find ourselves in a trip towards the interior of the nebula of Proxatar, at 36 knots.
It's difficult to stand that black barrier of sound that floats in our surroundings; white lights are coming cutting the monotony, right in front of my eyes.
I wonder what is the cause of that interspacial scream to which we travel to.
The voice of Proxatar asks us not to drip blood from our eyes so we don't disturb the sleeping snake.

In front of me, eternity silenced itself.

2 - Two

Those mortal dreams that I suffered once I was born fell like stars untouched by sin. Whose experience was repeated like the most orthodox of methods.
My sight has been clouded as I enter, but I know with my ears about this uncertain future that awaits me.
Walk through space, black and open towards the one and only thought just before the pillars of my mind.

The Universe walked.

3 - Three

Like an explosion of myths in an exhibition of feelings tied to the sins of man.
It studies the loss of death itself, whose sons it took under the ground, similar to a ship of illusions that reflect the eyes of the sky.
My heart stumbles with the truth of light and the strong implosions of my solitude.

And Silence spoke before me.

4 - Four

I was thinking about the chain of strong winds.
Like a shot, the last hope of man in its place passed before me.
I wondered what could that be, what would I see next, but something unknown attacked my state of complete stability, losing control. I cried for a comeback through the road of broken glasses that pierce my muscles.

And the melody was not late to the meeting.

5 - Five

There's time that inferes and doubts about its holy prohibitions that don't disturb time as the broken link of kindness.
Worried, I knelt and nodded my head, kissing the ground that carried me, in the style of Harry Houdini.
There are no ears that receive the cries of help because everything in here is deaf.

Therefore, nothing will be heard.

6 - Six

The mantle adheres me with its imperturbable gravity. It's an angel of purple attire that swears that it is the truth of lies.
The time is running out and destruction, along with perdition, is imminent, total decay and decrepitude of cosmic paper is stabbed by the thorn of betrayal and broken hearts.
They fell and perish, like needles through my eyes.

Thus, blood fell for the first time.

7 - Seven

I decided not to ask for help, the rain was heavy and dark. I had to control my series of problems that water the sunflowers.
The voice comes closer by the hand of the end of times. Forged with fire and hammer, my actions were written over the multicolored facets of the furthest of the existing Suns.
On space I fell, turned and I was no more.

The beast will play...

Meaningless

Find your stars- she said, following her words she turned away and vanished in a single moment.
Children singing in the endless depths of night.
Red reflection in my eyes.
Drone.

Crushing glass was all I heard, the harsh sound felt like splinters of ice penetrating the very center of my soul.
Meaningless words empty my space and the ink in my pen is finishing. (Ink has no place to be in here)

The righteous man... It fell aside my broken wings and learned to fly in the mist of the autumn nights of my last year in the final path of a destination unknown to mortals, singers and liars.

It Was August, And The End Was Near

A shadow of what appeared to be a man arose high upon the plain early in the morning.
It was August, and the end was near.

In the distance, this silhouette appeared closer each time, what reminded me of past times, when hail, water and wind ravished the land and ice covered the plain in its entirety, like white blood spilling from my eyes, like tears within the rain.

Grey clouds ruled the sky and the Sun was not to be seen by the sight of the sinners and liars, nor to any mortal eyes. A fellow stranger passed by and greeted the walking kin that crossed his path.
I never heard from him again.

Cold winds hit my skin sharp as razors while everyone wished for the torment to perish a slow and crimson demise. The strange pilgrim that rushed upon the field caught my attention when he stopped. I had been sitting outside during the night thinking about miserable verses that would never be read, and here they are:

“Who are you, my fellow life? What is it that has brought you here?
Please do not tell me that you are here to make me suffer, for I will not bear it, please do not tell me that you are here to torment me, for I will be the rising Sun by dawn…”

And my ink did finish.

My eyes were open like mirrors absorbing fragments of light in the might of the morning as the rays of such light wandered through the plain.

I was too weak to follow my heart, but too strong to deny my feelings and too silent to ignore my will.

The stranger was close and I trembled with fear, it was August and the end was near.
The ghastly silhouette stood with all of its might right in front of my eyes, and whispered into the sky:

I am your best friend, and my name is…

My name is The End.