Echo Poem by The Queen's Dagger

The last words ever spoken echo in the dark night. A summer breeze sweeps through the now deserted wasteland, lending false comfort to what, if anything, still exists.

I feel myself being, not breathing, not seeing, not hearing, not touching, not tasting, nor moving. I feel; no, I sense, that there are others around me. Others wandering in what seems to be an aimless fashion. Whether it is or not, no one knows.

I sense the universe shift, but this time not to accomodate the mundane. It serves a greater, and as of now undefined purpose. It is beyond us, beyond anything we know. We try to understand, then are quick to anger when we can't. Jumping and leaping to some sort of tangible conclusion, we grab hold and pull.

It's all gone now; all the hypothesizing and questioning. For we never really knew what we were doing anyway.