The Abyss

Nothing is for certain.

The count down continues; if all shall be as the humans have planned, tomorrow shall be another hot day in the desert, another glorious sun will rise from the East and set in the West, and we shall be closer to our destiny by another day.

Like clock work: without fail.

Nothing is certain.

For who knows what lies in the destiny of men. We hope that it is pleasant. In hope we find our salvation, in hope we lay all trust; for hope is a good thing as it is the worst.

The count down strays forward as we continue in to the deep dark abyss — the darkness engulfs our being, the emptiness eats us from within. But fear not as there is much to look forward to, away from the darkness of the abyss.

For there is light with darkness, happiness with gloom. The world of men is bipolar, and everything in between, a facade of patterns.

Let us rejoice, for nothing is permanent: Happiness nor sorrow.

Let this curse be transformed in to the blessing that it may prove to be.

Nothing is certain.

 

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