Upon this eyrie, now we stand,

  gazing down into the abyss

  of limited years and the unvaried dark

  that veil eternity.

  I saw then the sun and the world

  shadowed in the darkest night;

  we have come to the end,

  the final sunset,

  the place where every dream

  must end.

  And we, fallen incarnations all,

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  of what was once endless,

  now walk as fragments on the brink

  of darkness.

  Time, that withering specter,

  follows us, hounding our steps,

  till we reach this place,

  this

  point

  of no return.

  Nostalgia yields naught but twisted

  memories; the rose-tinted

  perpetuity is a space discorporated

  of truth and hope, and at last,

  a journey comes to an end,

  drawn voidward by the

  lamprey-kiss of mortality.