My heart has turned to stone within me.
My soul is now beyond my reach.
I have lost all.
A new day is supposed to dawn.
It will dawn, but not on the Michael we knew.
Michael has been smitten, crushed, flayed, and melted on the great pyre of loss and despair.
The crucible lay empty, awaiting the dross.
What has flowed forth is yet unknown.
Something new?
Some alloy that will withstand the new storms of time?
Or a faded and dark shell of worthless and useless tin, fit only for tossing to the slag-pile of history?
Only I know.
The world must learn anew, or fail.
I have seen what I have seen, and the sight was beautiful and terrible.
The future awaits us all.
Shall we stand the test?
Shall you?
For the future before you is as unknown as your past is immutable.
Shall you permit the past to rule you?
Or will you allow your beautiful and terrible future to unfold new before your eyes?
The choices you make, the path you follow, may only become truly known in the fullness of time.
Choose well, or choose ill.
Your future is yours to write.