"And he asked him, What is thy name? And he answered, saying, My name is Legion: for we are many."
Mark 5:9
I am less of a legion and more of a choir.  Instead of singing, we laugh and scream.  Between the grand expanses of our songs, we give little bits of dissonance.  My favorite is the smallest bit of truth:  "you will die alone."  When he insists that his solitude is temporary, we rescind and offer other words:  "perhaps you're right; we'll be there for you."  Like most ideas, there is a little truth in both statements.  He will die alone, in the sense that we all die alone.  However, I intend to follow him wherever he decides to leave.  That's the best part:  it will be a decision.  Most cling to life for the hope of tomorrow or the fear of the end.  He fears nothing and knows no hope:  he will let go at the first available opportunity.  I'll be there, too, whispering our favorite song "Hello our old friend.  I see you've set us free.  The forces are in motion."
Until then, we're content to laugh and scream.
sons of midnight
 

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