Lunaessence3

I'm told that when you die, each soul is subjected to a unique turn of events. No life ever ends the same, and similarly no death will ever begin the same. I have it on good authority that mine was especially good, though I don't know that I'm inclined to agree. Death was an incandescent storm ensnared in a tempest, the transcendent lights and sounds of things beyond our own world, spinning and pulsing with the savage pandemonium of unearthly, tumultuous winds. As the phenomena reached crescendo pitch, and as I was stretched and frayed beyond what I believed possible, my essence was spread thin through a multiplicity of transitive planes th

Can you dance to the tune? Would you, could you, sing along? Whose voice do you hear? The Serene debilitating Rhapsody? The Injustice kindled Cocophany? Can you sing to this tune? Would you, could you, dance along? Whose voice do you hear? A Sweet contaminating Reverance? A Mind afflicting Resonance? The woeful song of Soulful Severance? Could you dance to that tune? How could you, why would you, sing along?