Nameless Solitude, Ephemeral Landscape

There is no applause to be heard. I am alone here. Completely alone.

People die, consumed by the fires of war. Soldiers die, killed in action on the battlefield.

Someone drowns, swallowed up by the stormy sea. Someone dies by the roadside, amidst a pile of trash.

Some lives fade slowly in filthy sickbeds. Some lives are extinguished in the name of justice.

Lives are wasted in the pursuit of human prosperity. Cities, entire civilizations, are built on the backs of the dead.

The backs of countless, nameless dead who died all alone.

The City Eater Beast asks: Who will be present for the end of all things?

The City Eater Beast answers: I, who devours civilizations for pleasure, can be present.

At the very end, when all is empty and devoid of life, I can say to myself, "That was delicious."

Oh, that is evil just as surely as it is love.

But then, if that should come to pass...

...who will be present for her, left all alone after the end of the world?