From a Notebook Lost – The Same and The Other 66
The terror subsides, but only briefly before pure and utter dread kicks in. My mind races keeping pace with the beating of my heart as I feel my translation upon me. The flash of lightning, the sound of thunder, speaks to me, the ancient ones, speaking of Ragnarök. It grows dark and cold and the rain falls soaking up the past and showing in the future. Looking down from my cliff abode i see the flooding of the plains as all is engulfed in a watery grave. The flooding is fast as a cheetah and as rough as a lion. I look deep inside myself and embrace the nothingness. I see that all is gone and I leap from my precipice into the tomb of my fathers.