The archangel descending from the heavens above, tearing through the atmosphere, burning its wings to be with us in our time of dying. It has been said that the end would come, that the smoke shall rise and the ash shall fall, that the wicket shall perish and the redeemed shall walk again. The earth will shake for all our misgivings and negligent pride, as all things will come to rest, this is not the end, only a new beginning.
Yet this prophecy does not have to come to pass, as we are the architects of our future selves, fate is a spinning top only resting when necessary.
– Josh Fleming
Image by: Reuben Wu