Prelude to the End of Everything
“Those left standing on the edge will gaze silently over frayed stretches of blushed rose and charcoal as the sky glances back with its hesitant farewell. The breathless rock beneath, groans a bitter song to the fingers of flaming light it embraced just a moment ago, now dying on the wind. The final hymns of this land will not be uttered by our remains, but by the tightly bundled silk that threads the frosted wood and thorny brush; slumbering infants cradled by the Great Mother.”
Words by Morgan Schultz
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Jan Erik Waider
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