s all life is born to die, so all men are born to decay. There can be no succour in this world. As the centuries drag past our cultures will fade, just as our bodies waste and our passions cool as the winter of the life approaches.

All shall be forgotten with the passing of years. There will be no exceptions.

For who amongst us can escape the predations of time? That which is young can only grow old. That which is whole and sweet can only shrivel and sour. It is the fate of all things that they are bound to time, and time is twin to decay.

So bend a knee. Bend a knee all who would embrace their fate and rise above it.

And this is how the world will end. Not with fire and tempest, but with a collective sigh of failed passion and lost hope.