What was death like? I had always wondered that, but now I guess it was time for me to find out. I was on the journey to the underworld, or the land of misery as some called it.
On a boat that many called 'the vessel' in the ancient speak it was called 'the dalga' translating as 'the boat of haunted souls'.
Just being on here brought the thought that we were going to a place where happiness did not linger, but grief and sadness rained down like a storm.
The vessel was nearing the end of its journey, nearly at the dreaded destination.
A acid-like smell burnt out my nostrils and choked the breathe from my throat, fire crackled at the sides of the tar black, snaking river.
Smoke filled the already humid air while wails of anguish sounded from the depths of the dark waters.
Those were the people who hadn't made the journey to underworld, the poor souls who were stuck in the limbo between the living and the dead.
That would mean a lifetime of suffering and pain, as these thoughts pasws through my head I stumbled away from the side of the vessel.
The dark waters looked almost hypnotising, ready to lire you in so you will never come out again.
The burning fire marked the entrance to the underworld, our journey on the the dalga being over it was time to start a life full of suffering and grief in the eternity of the land of misery...