The sun went out today. Stars rained down from the sky. I thought to myself, this must be the end. And the end it was. All the things in life that I’d accomplished and everything I’d obtained stood for naught at the point of completion. Nothing meant anything and all that had once meant everything was now just a pile of rubble at my feet. My eyes felt heavy and my heart wrung out. It ached, throbbing with every pulsing beat. What was it that life really meant? To just end like this, no chance at closure. What had I really done with the time I’d been given? Who would remember me when I was no longer here? And what did this all really matter anyway? Why should I, in my last moments of life, care what those around me had gleamed from my meager existence? Shouldn’t I perhaps be more concerned with what I myself had gotten from life? The things that really mattered, not these prisoners of time crumbling around me. How often did I let the bonds of this world steal the laughter from my heart? And now, what did I have to show for the price that I’d paid? Tears streamed from my eyes, free of my aching heart, splashing and pooling in the dust at my feet. The fire would consume me soon, as it would all in its path. Unbiased and thoughtless, a force of nature alone, it would not stop to think who I’d been or what I’d done. I realized numbly that facing ones death is like looking into a mirror and instead of having a physical appearance reflected back what you see is all that you were, all that you should have been, and all that you’ll never get the chance to be. My breath caught in my throat and a sob erupted from deep in my chest. If this was the end, and it was, then I knew how I wanted to face it. I squared my shoulder and raised my chin. The wind whipped my hair from my tear stained face and before me was the firestorm, consuming all that had been my reality for so long. My steps were sure and determined as I walked into my fate.