"Everyones Birth leads to their destruction, and Destruction is a form of Rebirth. When there is no one left, only then will Humanity be set free..."
Ricky believed in Rebirth. Destruction is a form of rebirth.
Imangine a luscious forest bursting with vegitation. Trees, Shrubs, Flowers and ferns gently emerging from the dark of night, shrouded in a glistening cloak of dew.
Pure sparkling water is illuminated on the soft green leafs by the days first rays of light from the sun as it peers over the horizon. Fleeting drops descend to the undergrowth from leafs that flutter in the gentle breeze of dawn. Picture a soft, blue sky as it welcomes the rising sun into the day with not a cloud to obstruct its radiance. This day is calm and quiet. The day is perfect.
Envision, as the day begins to pass, so does the sun's glory as clouds steadily stampede into the scenery. The sun is swallowed by dark clouds, emitting the sense of an unsettling omen. In the midst of the darkness beneath the storm comes a deafening crack comparable to the voices of the gods.
A blinding light leaves the afterimage of what, in short time, be but a memory of what was once gorgeous. At last, a spark comes from the heavens transforming the forest floor into a blazing deathbead of chaos, tearing the paradise asunder. Engulfed in flames the woods, the woods are unviting.
The brush beneath the canopy crackles as searing heat devours its life. Entire trees are turned to ash. The ground is blackened and burned as acres upon acres of forest life are plummented into chaos while the flames harvest plant life.
Shortly thereafter will come silence only disturbed by the subtle effevercence of ashes and embers as they spew forth geysters of smoke. The scenery appears damned, condemned to inexistence, and destened to be forgotten, but beneath the soot lies a glimmering hope. Within the cinders is nutrition for new life. Seeds feed on the destruction and begin to grow. In time, the new life will flourish again.