It is said that death is a great leveller. Death is a grisly reminder of the futility of life, the thin line between having it all and losing it all, and what not. It follows you throughout your life, waiting for its moment to strike. Some people live in fear of it, and lose their lives. Some are blissfully unaware and live their lives. No matter whom it strikes, you are reminded of your own and your near ones mortality. You wish you had a cloak, that would hide you from it, something that would give you warmth from its cold grasp, false though it may be.
Silence. Deadly silence. Forlon faces, tears, memories of a lifetime. Despair. Depression. Cold.
Unhindered, the great leveller toils on. It is the yin and the yang, the feminine and the masculine, life and death. Without one, the other does not exist.
Every start has an end. All that take birth needs to take leave one day - that is the rule without exceptions, until someone discovers the elixir of youth, an anti ageing medicine, the somras - the drink of gods. Such things happen only in fiction, until science proves us all wrong.
How would this earth be if there were no deaths. Overcrowded ? Stagnant ? Would no death mean no birth as well ?
Silence. Deadly silence. Forlon faces, tears, memories of a lifetime. Despair. Depression. Cold.
Unhindered, the great leveller toils on. It is the yin and the yang, the feminine and the masculine, life and death. Without one, the other does not exist.
Every start has an end. All that take birth needs to take leave one day - that is the rule without exceptions, until someone discovers the elixir of youth, an anti ageing medicine, the somras - the drink of gods. Such things happen only in fiction, until science proves us all wrong.
How would this earth be if there were no deaths. Overcrowded ? Stagnant ? Would no death mean no birth as well ?
