Human footsteps trampled terra in the median space that was below the above as the upheaval motion of Deaths river Styx, her cloak of time a golden shade of copper folded around her, sailing as her riders wailed and every one could feel the tel of what they had done.
The windows the riders past, pained faces of anguish, lives pulled apart pressed to see what might have been.
Splashes of blood that hit the mind and stung the riders who had no choice to feel the dread of no forgiveness for what had been done and instead a party of delights to confuse the hardened soul.
A chance on this earth again and again, lives you have chosen and paths you have walked, real choices you made and it's on display, no other can forgive than the innocent life or God you rejected a gift of life.
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