"I am so afraid. I am afraid of being dead, I am afraid of being nothing, and that great unease that I have kept so long at bay is made companion to me now. I see the life of me, the life of all of us, our wars and copulations, all our movement and philosophy and concience, and there is no floor beneath it, and it stands on naught. Beyond my window, early stars emerge into a firmament with purpose fled.
...
I shall be dead, and nothing shall be left of me but worm and bone. I shall be wiped away, be absent in the endless and insensate dark where no thought comes. I shall not rise into the nave of rebirth, echoing with angel voices, and no more shall any of us, for the Heavens are become an empty place and dead men do not rise, nor push back stones. Our souls know no ascent, nor have they final destination.
Laughing, weeping, (...) I circle, circle round, forever round beneath an empty sky that neither man nor martyr ever rose toward, nor even saw the flame of man relit when once his spark had gone, nor even knew of any resurrection."

Alan Moore
Voice of the Fire, Plate 6, Post AD 1100.