When everything dies, suddenly, all is violent, all it bright and at the same time, all is fragile.
You imagine infinite horizons and you want to get forever lost surrounded by dust and echoes till you get to a deafening distance.
But even so, in that long journey, this is only the end of the beginning, that would start with the twilight till you hear the sound of the lost symphony created by the sound of souls that fall from starts in the route 666.
You'll hear a lateral noise that can wake up every single soul from coma and you'll see sunrise in areas with an empyrean glow, far from refuse, till the night comes, the darkfall. But beyond the dying light, new years will rise by the grace descending. shadows will appear, will talk to you about many different things, from zodiac to loss, from the snowfall to echoes heard on the first day of sun.
In this lost kingdom, there are words in collision, like parallel highways, shining through a golden sky, where the paradise remains.
This is the age of the fifth sun, where god is an astronaut.