by

The Maw. 

The dreamer stands at the edge of the abyss and stares deeply into it, while is stares into his soul in return. The silver cord that binds him is tattered and frayed, yet it still keeps him from falling. How it still holds is a wonder, as even now more strands come unbound.  Soon it will break and the maw will claim another. And while the dreamer will find no piece when it happens,  it will be better than what was.   Until then, the dreamer will return again and again to carve off another chunk to be tossed into the hungering emptiness as a promise and reminder of what will come. 

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