The great door slowly closes, the last of the good moments rush away, trailing with the last of it disappears the hope of rebirth.
I turn to see the pillars of this time crumble and buckle, the roofs shatter like a hammer striking a mirror, no more shall this place be. It folds as if imploding, the stresses and cracks widen like the mouth of some huge beast, all that was will be gone.
Cracking through the settling dust comes a light, the dawn of now possible new beginnings shines brighter than before, unmarred by the towers and steeples that filled the skyline. The smell of the unknown drifts on the wind across the arid plains of this former glorious place.
My eyes search listlessly over the hollow of what had been, the broken vestibules and towers lie heaped and ruined. No signs of life remain. I linger just a moment longer, the last bit of hope being chewed over, a certain emptiness descends and grips upon my shoulders, the chill of it creeping down my spine.
As I turn to leave, a shadow tricks across my vision, the faintest of movements, a ghost of the recently past. I wave a hand across my eyes as a single tear rolls down my face, a trick of the light or the sad end of that which was and will no longer be. With a heavy heart and a vigour-less step, I leave. It is the end and no matter what is said or done, life has played its bitterest hand.
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