• The end of the world has come at last; I see the stars raining down as more lives continue to be extinguished.
    Magma flows around me as I sit and watch the horror unfold.
    But there is beauty here, now at the end of all things.
    These stars are not stars, but angels falling back to the place from whence they came.
    The lava flows in colors that no human eye has ever seen before.
    If I could I would paint this moment here in the last twilight of this dying world.
    Now as the lava reaches me the last star to fall is that of our great sun, the giver of life.
    In the last of its dying embers a great dragon roars into the horizon.
    It falls beneath my gaze as I sink onward into the burning liquid toward oblivion.
    As I sink into the darkness I do see one last star, one last angel, falling toward me.
    My dying guardian.
    My dying God.

    By~ Vincent Darik Rosencruix