I quantify the challenges I face every day, by simple math. Drought, starvation, disease and death. They still never really add up. Doorways to the nether neither proved, nor disproved my sanctity. So I trudge on. The holy portals of tomorrow still guiding me. Now, I’m not making any choices. They are defined by a divination of the ancient form. I just listen to the voices. Bones and dice turn men to mice. My situation defined simultaneously as I transform. From a man to a mouse, and still human. Well hardly, but we're not here to read of that. Just close your wanting eyes and see the prophecies. Both at the end and at the beginning. A fresh start to my advances. This is the end and the beginning.