The end - Sample Sunday 02/27/2011

Black the sky and dark the moon. Sight fails, body aches, on legs that carry this tortured soul no more. The grass is soft, but cold and damp where I fall and lay, unable to move, unwilling to cry. The sounds of night in constant thrum fill my ears with peace, until spent at last; one I become with the Earth, and die alone in the darkness whence I came.