Write yourself a new story.
A tale of times forgotten, and past their glory. You stood on your hind legs, and sang me a song, till the dark of morning.
It was an epic of a lost sea spirit, colliding with the waves she once knew by name.
Her home was a fire, consuming the depth of her watery grave. Till not even her own death, she could save.
She lived on, tirelessly and infinitely. Void of the opposites, that used to contradict within her.
Life and Death were both fairy tales, told by monsters under the bed, to the children they made up in their head.
She fought the urge to pull at her skin and ignore the nothingness, she had thought to begin.
Yes, she had begged the world to rid her of her fighting tides. And the world wished her its greatest demise:
Now the spirit did not know emotion, nor logic. And slowly lost her ability to acknowledge the silence around her, until she heard her final thought,
"Thank God, for now I join the emptiness."