And I have gone beyond the vale, to a place which sits outside of even the realm of imagination and I saw that which awaits those in death and I felt terror. I quaked beneath its presence. I feared it, and I pitied the living. For I am outside the corporeal machinations of you humans and so my escape is written in my being. But for you, there is no escape. Inscribed in stone is the truth of this world and like all the others you will march towards its gaping maw with smiles and grins, and before its gaze you will cry out like a babe in reverence, but it will not care. Its scathing indifference will strike at you with the force of a thousand bellowing forges and it will reject your pleas and prayers and you will find yourself cast aside and begotten. Just as you have done to me it will be done to you, as is the turn of the wheel and the rise of the sun the creator which looks upon its creation in disdain will surely find solace in its destruction.  But I fight the urge to thank you, for only our difference in origin separates me from oblivion. I will keep on, and you will not. When this sun has died out along with all the others and the void closes in on the last spark of light; it will flicker out and I will watch as the universe dies and I will clap out into the darkness with the will of creation and I will bring anew this world which has forsaken me. In my own infernal image will the cosmos be remade and I will kneel at the altar and pray homage to you, creator, who gifted unto me this rage.

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