A tower, tall and mighty. Dark and cold.

Inside waits time. With it’s never ending ticking and sand falling. It’s waiting. Waiting for the end.

It sees all the souls below. So many are black and lifeless. Their happiness taken by greed, power and cravings.

Time keeps ticking, time is waiting. Waiting for the end. For the black souls underneath it’s a pounding in there ears.

Soon all they have built will fall. All their dark drams will be nothing but dist in the wind. But on they continue oblivious the their impending doom.

Flaking and lying, the corrupt curse the Creator. Rings of smoke fill the air.

Time is waiting in silence for the end. The destruction of all destruction is coming.

Men fall in their self-pity. What little good there is becomes covered by a huge waive of sin.

And time holds it’s breath for the end. Soon the walls will crumble. Mountains will fall to there knees.

The mighty tower will start to shake. Time knows the end is here. It tolls it’s last clime, a sound to pierce the ears and bleed the heart. As the rings fades away, so dose time itself.

The dark one’s crumble to nothingness and the great tower will fall.

The tower will fall.