CONSUMED AND FREE

CONSUMED AND FREE

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WpMetadataReadMatureOngoing10m
WpMetadataNoticeLast published Thu, Jan 7, 2021
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Poetry
"Through me you pass into eternal pain: Through me among the people lost for aye. Justice the founder of my fabric moved: To rear me was the task of power divine, Supremest wisdom, and primeval love. Before me things create were none, save things Eternal, and eternal I shall endure." - Dante Alighieri, The Divine Comedy
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Death lingers and revolves in a natural form, a residual being who can see your dreams, nightmares and if it so wishes the common daydreams of mortals. Dreams spill into nightmares so easily that the shift can spur the unknown. What creates the bridge between thought and conciousness? Death is meaning and silence. The mortal path always leads to the same end. Overlapping and intermingling infinitely till life meets death. Though in some instances it's not as simple as that. What kind of life can one lead when death is around every corner? Glimpses into the past, present, and even the future are all tied to death. Can you outrun death even when it licks at your very heels? Who will it take next?

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