Okay, so this one is a little dark, I'll admit. I leave the exact interpretation entirely up to you, however. Feel free to post your thoughts, I'm always interested.
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A million dead. The end perhaps? But no, one more. There's always one more.
The dusk shall come six weeks hence, and then it shall be night forever more. As the wave dashes against the rocks, so shall it be taken from you. Paint everywhere, but it won't wash out, not ever.
Tears will flow like a river. You won't be able to breathe. You'll fall to your knees, for all the good it'll do you. It's not on the floor, silly.
I'm sorry. I don't know why I said that.
In the end you'll go the same way, you won't handle it at all well. Only it won't be someone else's fault. A warm cloak...a shaking hand...you head towards the light.
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