That beautiful moment when you realise you haven’t got long left.
A terminal case, in the last moments. In the final agony … A roaring in the ears. A roaring, as of vast applause. You’ve done it. You’re going to die. The end has come, and it’s beautiful.
Death, coming. And savouring its coming. Savouring the last moments. The last glory. Savouring the time from now to the end, to the utter end.
Your blood, running out. Your blood, draining from your system. What could be more beautiful?
Death, death. No more of this wicked world. No more devils and archons. No more powers and principalities. No more Satan-on-earth. No more screams, no more cries. No more day-and-night torment.
Work in Progress 