And the animals, converging to be one, joining the humans placed in a cage of fear. Soon, they crumble beneath lies and empty promises, falling through the bars. Wearing the cloak of deception, slowly they crawl back to whence they came. Taking each their own, only then do they lay uneasily at rest with the forests, letting the humans wander and take what they once made. They are greedy creatures, and the animals may not rest within the malcomtented world of which they birthed.

Alas! The dead may rise before us, weeping in melancholy tunes and screaming with hatred. The mighty wolf wakes, the world serpent moves, the uneasy thunderous footfalls of the animals only prove to be. And so the sun shall soon turn as black as night, bleeding with the tears of the fallen, and may then the humans writhe with fear as they rise to greet the unfairness thrust upon the world so carefully crafted. Ragnarok may be upon them!

May the dead walk silently, rising from their graves and walking among the tainted faces of humanity, killing us from the inside out, crumbling the pyramid so carefully placed it was as if a block had been taken from its mere heart. And there, laying out yander, do the risen sing in their saddened voices calling upon the melancholy and dusted earth, taking in the weary traveled souls, till it be nigh time for them to return to their resting places.

And so, walking alone on their seperate paths, they wander towards the same destination. Never once do they cross roads, never once stopping to relish the presence of a being, instead only shuffling along, towards the voiceless whispers of the trees and farther from the sad and curious eyes of the living, may they return to the earth, burrowing till they may stand tall, and close their eyes to rest a last time, lies having been forgotten, and abandoned by the voices once so familiar.

Only then, May The Sleeping Lie When Awake.