The grains wedge between your toes.

The Sun sets along the horizon,

Casting a dark orange glare upon the surface and

Giving rise to her dimmer nephew:

A muted figure from which the seas grow hostile.

The ocean ignites in a frenzy of blazes like the

Families of stars in violent, volatile discord;

The pyres built for those leaving our world and

The nine circles of Hell to hold them.

Suddenly, you smell gas,

And you look around to see…

Nothing. And…Everything.

Consumed by a veil of smoke,

More like a solid pressing down on you,

Ripping the air out of your chest.

You can’t breathe, you can’t breathe, you-

You’re in a forest.

The animals around you sing their lovely songs.

The grass cradles you like how a

Mother holds her child.

Everything is tranquil.

Everything will be alright.