You ask who I am, I am known by various names, but not a God in any religion. I am the silent watcher, master of the seas. I, the voice you hear on dark and stormy nights, whispering through the trees. I, the person in the crowd who does not merit another glance. I am the one who creates your dreams, and haunts your nightmares. I am the unknown, feared for that.

As above, is below.

I stand back from it all and watch. The constant cycle of life, ultimately over-ruled by our cycle of death. You ask why? As you wade in your own hatred and ignorance, a question that has no answer, or in which the answer itself is a question. Confusion. Always confusion.

Twisting and contorting, rising, forcing itself upwards in the dark, dead of night.

As above, is below.

A sliver of evil, penetrating the artificial happiness of the world above, slithering through the streets, growing, strengthening with every movement, maturing, transforming into an opaque blanket for this world.

As above, is below.

Sweeping the world in discordant waves. Washing over the streets with the mighty, deafening sounds of life dying out, a plague upon your world. The fire that is life, drowning bleakly as it fights to escape death and despair. Life and death in a power struggle. You believe so little in life, death controls you.

As above, is below.

Lunar ellipse ruling the tides, seeping hatred diffusing through your ocean, a steady rise of the heaving tide, closer to your shores, brushing the boundaries of your false hopes and dreams. An invisible ruling of death's macabre ways, a rising tide of desolation flooding the globe, suffocating you more than your wasted seas ever could.

As above, is below.

The passion of life sinks in man's hatred and fear of death, death controlling every aspect of his life. The fever pitch of death makes a mockery of all that composes life.

As above, is below.

A sea of hatred and death, washing over your world in an endless tide of malevolence. You spend your life drowning in your worry about death, questioning it, thinking about it. Some of your questions would take a lifetime to answer! You waste you time worrying, only to die, a worthless cause. I understand how this world works, I breathe easy even as death cleanses over me.

As above, is below.

You do not understand the fundamental aspects of life, of the soul, of the spirit. You think you do, with all your science and technology, but this is the rogue science and what happens cannot always be explained by logic. You fill your minds with deaths; you drink it in, in your everyday lives. The power is drawn from you, the power of your spirit, and the power of the people. Power you should not offer so readily.

As above, is below.

Bathing in your own hatred, it disgusts me. Accepting this, a rolling tide of your destruction, masterminded with your power. The death of life, the death of what you could be. Life is the most complex and beautiful science that I know; yet you ignore it, embracing death as if it were all life has to offer. Putting so much hope in your technology, when the key to what you are searching for is in your very hands!

As above, is below.

The tides rise as the power strengthens. Flowing upwards from below, pressurised by your need and despair, it surges over you.

As above, is below, and rising.

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