Unnamed by Man

In the mist of a question humanity has been plagued with since birth – What happens after death? – we continue the walk across time sturdily. Confident and without pause, until blood leaks from crevices once unknown to anatomy itself. Then, we will look to the heavens, and a name will fall from our lips. Be wary, however. You never know who hears your dying breath. Gods may be rough on your destiny, but what lingers is hatred. Look up. Is there a bird watching you?