aurora mors ontologica. aurora ultima thule. how fitting a tribute that one such as i should bear solitary witness to the unfolding of the end, as man saw his end unfolding in me. the breath of the earth rises to consume the darkness behind the stars. as the dust blankets the snow, cloaked in the ghostly residue of stars unspun, bleached by aeons of drifting. how fitting, as man saw his end unfolding in me... and what of this end, this graceful apocalypse? the depths of matter will accept us back, out of living isolation, enfolded back into the elementary hell of the cosmic forge. there should be no mourning. there shall be no graves. no gnashing of teeth, no wailing, no lake of fire. no seraphs sob at vermin fangs in human gore imbued. just the emptying of the air. just the calming of the sea. and i. i watch the mountains curl like waves.