Cold wind swallows me into the bellows of reality. Sunlight has become so far between that I can no longer remember when last I felt the gentle beams of life on my face.
It must be unbearable down there, the screams have all ceased, I don't think anyone is alive anymore. The fire has taken everything in its path; it's the apocalypse of those poor souls. I'm not worried about what might happen to them, I just hate the idea of ending up alone. I guess that doesn't matter now, I'm the last soul awake and alive. All sins of this city have been cleansed and all evil that men have done got taken back with each lick of red agony.
It's not that cold up here, I expected worse really, then again maybe there's not much feeling left in me after seeing hundreds of thousands of souls burn in misery. I wonder if I'll ever be left feeling guilty - sure I could have saved a few people at least, but that wouldn't do them no better as they would have died from the cold anyway...
I've always known that I end up alone, just hoped that I was wrong, it's some inner wisdom that constantly reminds me that even if I don't succeed in finding closure I'll always have myself. The fire will keep company for some time, that's for sure. - Funny how such a gentle element can have so devastating results.
Maybe I should have stayed and accepted salvation as they did. That would have given me a free ticket out. Would I be any more happy about it? I doubt it.. besides it seems mindless to immolate yourself over another's mistake. If anything I'm surprised that nobody else made it out, surely someone saw it coming?
No, it's still just me, I'm alone.
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