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The Earth boils and the atmosphere is dissipating.
Now is the time for our last goodbyes.
This is our ancestors doing.
And their mistakes will be our demise.
To think that we are now united.
In death, we become a family.
A family of dying spirits.
The soil we walk upon turns on its occupants.
The crust, once solid and unwavering, now shifts beneath us, dissolving and cracking away.
What is left for us?
I sense and emptiness before us.
Untraversable and vast.
The chasm of new seas taunting what is left of the population.
Beckoning those who dare to die in her black lungs.
I have chosen a different fate.
I will sit.
I will stay.
I will die.
Alone.