This light swirls.
A death dance. Spirals of life feeding this abyss.
Traveling to unknown destinations.
This black mass, this swirling funnel, is it the end?
I don't know.
Shadows lurk unseen.
Spectrums of light record their life into muscle and bone.
Preserving their knowledge further through the continuim.
Out on the edge of the unknown I watch ghosts twinkle.
There is no moving faster, there's no slowing down either.
This is the way of things.
Move and be moved.
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