Sunset at the horizon... the darkness is spreading through the smoke of the fog, slowly getting control of the lost city between the white mountains... as you are walking in the empty streets, the empty cold streets, you're feeling that something is changing. Is it the atmosphere, or is it your deep self ?. As you are staring at the bleeding sky, the dying red light of the sun is reflecting on your face, giving it the illusion of an ocher divine aura surrounding you... You're sensing the arrival of a catastrophe; a rebel storm hitting the way to destroy everything it claims being hers, an army of invisible voracious forces running to drain the life out of the city, a shadow within yourself that was dormant until now, awakening for the first time... But you still don't know if that storm is them, or if that storm is you.
And as the sun is sucked by the horizon's frontline, leaving the sky soulless and empty, the power in your veins is flowing harder, deeper, getting in your bones, almost penetrating what might be your soul. As if, the death of the king star was the birth of a king anew. Is it a blessing of the gods, or a curse from the underworld forces ? At this moment, you can not tell. Your brain is not functionning, your entire body is shaking like a defective machine, and you're hammered by dizziness from head to toe. Only through what seems to be a ritual process that your carnival instincts are revived and strenghten, giving you that lust you thought was gone. Power has chosen to be reborn inside you, so that it could live again through you, able to strike by your firm hand. Like the tiger out of his cage, your soul is roaring, the sound of its victory echoing up to the tip of the mountain peaks. All you're wanting now is more. More of it. Until there's nothing left to be destroyed.
The sun is dead. The night is alive. The king is born. The storm has risen.
