Dawn

The stars are yet to surface and the lightbluegray sky is fading into the increasing dimness of a sonorous night. The deadsouls who are to meet their Patronfather are getting restless. The call was yawning and the ancestral light would erupt any moment. The blackness of the night is not meaningless, the colour is so significant of all that is NOT. We are here to die and the dead already have survived all deaths; souls may sign into the ether of a time when there was not a soul to measure it and the vastness that is in us had been transparent all this while. The time of the sun is come and any time, yes any time we all may successfully die: Pray to the eternal master of death that this moment should be true, just this once!