There was death.
And more death.
Pale sails, fog across the wake, a passing moon.
Time passed with the slow tides of life.
The black velvet king snuffs a candle.
Smells smoke rising.
Thinks of the dead girl clutching his letters.
Fumbles for a skull.
Stay in the dark, until you are in the dark.
Stay in the light, until you are in the light.
Stay, until there is no dark, no light.
Stay until there is no staying.
No being. No not being.