Let's explore the wonderful world of William Ashcroft's Dreams at Night!
It's all burning. Everything is burning. Everything you did - everything you built - it's all turning to ash, right before your eyes. None of it mattered in the end, and it's your fault. It was your hands that slipped - your grip that faltered - the sparks in your forge that set the blaze.
There are things, vast things, far greater than you. They will always be greater than you. Their voices will always be listened to above yours. And - more than that - they hate you. They speak storms upon you. You loved rain, once. Now, you can weather it. For how much longer? How long until the thunder, the lightning, becomes too fierce for you to bear? How long until the reckoning that you invited, that you thought could be postponed?
Death; death and dust. Have you really avoided this fate? What of every other? What of all those damned to the tomb? What can you do for them? They all unravel, in the end, and their voices fall to croaking, and then to silence. They shamble on towards that fate, they in their masses. You cannot save them. Why did you ever think you could?
Why do you try? Why? Who would mourn you if you fell? Who would care for you if you failed? It does not matter. None of it ever mattered. You hurry past the well, but - you can hear the voice. You can hear every word. Why not? Why not go North? Why not go -
