Mostly everything is silent now and I am apathetic and lethargic. The sound of the babbling streams and the leaves rustling as the cool midnight air dances restlessly through the trees does not reach this place. It is quiet here, so very quiet and still, so still. I am at peace in this obsidian palace, tall, black, and gleaming, impenetrable. Sometimes though, I will think of you, remembering what it was that came before this place. A lump will form in my throat. For a fraction of a second I will feel true despair, aching to fracture my mind and devour my soul. My eyes will sting, hot and wet. Rumbles from deep inside the earth will shatter the silence that once was as the ground shakes and cracks run seamlessly up the crumbling, fragile terraces. There is no longer hope, for I am here now and there is no going back. No escape. No salvation. But as quickly as it had onset, that fraction of a moment will pass and I will return to normalcy. It will be quiet again, and still. I will once again be calm, apathetic, and lethargic, at peace.