Things have changed in the months gone by.
The waves no longer bring darkness or cold.
Nor are they made of endless tears.
Composed of blanks, they create questions and fear.
Absence of emotion and reality.
Weak and feeble, they trickle through the mind.
Stranger than dreams and darker than nightmares.
A loss of ability and thought
Changed to shapes and patterns.
Quietly taking precedence, overpowering any ideas.
Replaced with visions and foreseeings.
Fires burning, mountains crumbling, people dying.
Utter silence, hysterical screaming, quiet weeping.
Memories destroyed, emotions erased.
Everything escaping, every grasp, despite all the effort.
Exhaustion creeps to the core, consuming the soul.
Falling to the forest floor gasping for life.
Peaceful darkness rests over pain.
The destruction becomes silent and the Chaos begins to sing.