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Mitchellnolte β Barque
Published: 2014-06-16 16:12:30 +0000 UTC; Views: 3712; Favourites: 114; Downloads: 0
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Description
Passage through the pylons of night, there is no peace in this world or the next, eyes on the helm and see not the unknown shores. A paradox of the True Will, does it have a destination or is an ewige Wiederkehr.Related content
Comments: 10
Was ist Wahr Wille?
Onward, onward, ever onward, for we cannot stop. Soon we shall arrive.
So many of the passengers look forward expectantly, trying to see something in the darkness. They scramble over each other's putrid flesh to garner an ounce of hope. Some give into the desperation and drink heavily from the rive Styx to forget their plight.
Onward, onward, ever onward, for we cannot stop. Soon we shall arrive.
Only one looks backwards and inwards, holding his silent vigil, unable to share his thoughts with the others too foolish to understand him.
Onward, onward, ever onward, for we cannot stop. Soon we shall arrive.
The wrath of medusa would be a better fate than this, to sit upon its creaking beams and timbers, tossed upon the waves like a toy boat, waiting for death to claim them lest they dine on human fair. The countless corpses rotting in the raft is ever pungent, ever sickening. They cling together with fear, hoping for the distant ship to rescue them.
Onward, onward, ever onward, for we cannot stop. Soon we shall arrive.
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i lke this - very nice prose regarding the topic!
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"Charon seems to have a full boat tonight." said Persephone as she watched from her loathsome throne.
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Astounding work here and epic in its tragedy. Your description is insightful and provoking .
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Racja, piΔkny!
Looks like Rembrandt paintings. I like that. Great light. Regards
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