In the event of this maddening and violent war, I have solemnly become reclaimed to my senses, in a way. For with danger lurking around every corner in this place, and death striking behind each and every blade – I have long since learned to be weary of the subtle movements around me, and more. But now, I can sense something different all together. A slight crossing of lines that I had never thought to be possible, a moment in time where I can sense your rage, you weariness, your fate. You are not here, but at the same time you are close. It is as if you are cloaked by some strange and mysterious force that still remains unknown to me.
My eyes are wandering now, and not in the direction that they should. For while comrades fall to their knees from all around me, my eyes are fixated above, as I cannot help but notice the large dark and shadowed masses that have begun to sweep across this place. It is eerie in essence, however I must hold no fear in this fight, for more than just myself is at stake at this time. I can feel your presence through these shadows, or so I believe. It seems we, in fact, now share the same vessel of sorts – with the shadows as a lone catalyst. But while you head towards something inevitably much darker, I still stand here fighting off what I know deep down inside is inevitable; as this beckoning mass from above slowly makes it’s way across this place.
In essence, we are not the same, nor have we ever been. For once, I stood at the side of light in hopes of finding the salvation and hope that I have always sought. However, now that my knowledge grows with each passing day, now that I am able to clearly see the false light that I have been lead to believe as true all this time has long since turned me on the darker path, a shadowed path; for may prove to be of great worth when the time comes. A time that will lay at the edge of this hyper-reality, a time that will teeter on the edge between life and death, a time that will see the inevitable death of this dying advent.