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The infinity loses its notion of time and slowly begins to

count again. The creator is trapped in the cyclic

labyrinth of his own images. The renewal leads only to

further distress and teh end comes in waves.

The unity imprisoned in seeming infinity is now motivated

only by the urge to seek its own ego for itself. And even

the immaterial beings are condemned to this hell, like us,

who dwell in the three-dimenional space of platonic

solids.

A glimmering flame of countless of existences, stars and

minds that end with a whimper. The funeral silence is

disturbed by the bang of the single spark and all is

consumed by flames of ekpyrosis. But if vermin is given a

chance to glimpse what lies beyond the zenith, is it truly

possible for a spirit devoid of shapes to abandon the shell?

Devouring the sun, darkening the world the auguring

nought reveals „all“. The microcosmic divinity expands

beyond the veil of time towards conterminous

dimensions.

Ominious, horrifying information that has longe since

wasted its sense and meaning circulates the mind like

incandescent needles when the one drowned in fire,

permeated with radiance, deafened by the prayer seeping

from the shapeless eternity, faces the unborn.

There, where all is something yet nothing. Where the

truth cannot be embraced. There we all shall, deprived of

memory, stand, consumed in the glory of great metatron.