To die is like a sweet dream
as it lulls you away from the dreary world
a world of make believe
where happiness is only found in books
and dreams are what set you free
When the night is young and the day is gone,
when the angels of hell await your cries
as you dance your way to death
a last ballad in the name of desperation
A bright white seemed to fill the world as he let go. the world was at an end, for him. death had finally heard his prayers and had come to take him.
the white that surrounded him was pure. an infinite shine showing the powers of the one great sou that seemed to know everything, but did nothing.
he could feel shoulders raising him from his place and help him float in the sea of white. in the distance he could make out some sort of shapes. but then they disappeared.
an absolute engulfed him, fear of something that he could not make out. he remembered peters words ‘to die would be an awfully big adventure’. he he..he tried to laugh. nervousness had taken over him as a cold chill after another went down his spine and all he could do was to stay still land wait.
and then in the distance he could make something out. he was coming close to something.
“is there anybody out there” he shouted.
a small speck became visible in the distance. a dark dot int his sea of white where there seemed no up or down, o start or end. just the absolute.
it scared him.
he was getting frantic and panicky. not knowing what to do always scared him and this was beyond anything he had imagined. death was not supposed to scare him. she was supposed to lull him away. put him to peace.
the speck came closer and closer without becoming bigger. it was glaring at him, if a spot could do that.
then it became a little larger
till it was a small island in the middle of the ocean.
he landed there. it was a flat stretch of black with no end that he could see, but still it reminded him very much of an island, so it must have an ned.
abstract thoughts came to his mind but he tried to push them away.
setting what felt like his foot onto the black he walked.
in the distance he thought he heard a screa,….NO…DONT GO….
but maybe that was just him imagining stuff again.
he walked on, what else could he do. there was nothing else to do.
one step after the other he made his way across the plain black. he walked on
and on for what seemed like an eternity.
his feet felt like they would tear apart from the walking but what scared him was that he felt no pain, just a numbing chill.
after many days of walking, filled with far distant memories of screams, of imaginary heads that came to his vision and shouted at him, making horrible faces. murderous expressions.
he ignored them and walked on. death was becoming an awfully big adventure.
after a few more days he came upon something, a small door in the ground. he would have missed it if he hadn’t just glanced at it by mistake.
but then he looked around and saw something that almost made him collapse.
the whole black surface was made up of such innumerable gates. millions and millions of gates. all alike, lined up one after the other, next to each other.
millions of gates.
millions of possibilities
millions of unknowns, unspoken fears.
he stared back. he had been walking over al these gates for a lifetime. they had been there, right under him but he hadn’t seen them nd y chance he had seen one.
he opened that one.
his hands seemed to be full of sweat. no air blew as he took his breath in the vacuum. a hollow exercises.
the door was in his grasp, he pulled to open it.