A storm raging under quiet sea, A heartbeat drowning the pounding fists of constrained reality. The disdain that denies the day & closes the door on life. The determination behind the waning crescent moon. A voice whispered: I'm Silver, reflected in bones & bones reflected in silver. I'm both Scythe & crops & the cord wrapped around the infant's neck. I'm the word that contaminates all tongues. The seed carrying the last breaths of Legions, The wolf licking its teeth outside the children's Den & the inky black holding the world in slumber. I am the grey pastures where sick creatures come to Feed & the congregating ghosts putting all horses to sleep. I am the Chimera commanding the Reaper to his Knees & the sleep you sleep until all dreams are dead.