Style: Ambient, modern classical
Primary Emotions/Themes: Sitting in a room, my head buried in my hands, the world crashing down around me
Thoughts: I stand at a precipice. A place where light divides itself from dark. A place where life and death intermingle, one indistinguishable from the other. I stand here knowing I must proceed, but fear has overcome me.
A tiny seed of doubt lingers in my mind. What lies beyond this mortal coil? One more step and I will find out, yet I hesitate. Small whisps of life swirl around me, the gentle tendrils of death beckon me forward. Their sweet tones luring me to take that final, definitive step. Yet I hesitate.
I find my mind slowly emptying, I find myself losing what make me... me. I find myself floating away into the ether, my hesitance is no longer of any concern to the world around me. It has made the move for me. I no longer feel my arms or my legs, soon I will not feel anything at all... I am returning from whence I came... into nothingness.
The soft notes of life swirl around me as my body begins to become reabsorbed into the universe. The ambience of death embraces my contentiousness and lures me into an eternal sleep. The two of them claim me, and my essence back into itself. They hath made me, now they reclaim what gifts were so freely given so that they may be bestowed upon another.
This is Cinderland, and these are the notes of the High Planes. The final things that mortals hear prior to moving from one world to the next. This is the chronicle of those that pass on.
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