a figure lies dead across the ground pierced by 10 swords. Behind it a blacker than black circle hangs in the air, is it rising or falling?

Ten of Swords

Don’t let the gloom fill you with despair, all things must die eventually. The question for you is this: is the sun rising or setting? There are thought patterns that no longer serve you, ways of being that must be let go. Though it is painful to see this is a sweet release. What dies will decompose and be composted into something new. Fear not, though it may be hard to stomach at first the stench of fresh death and rot will give way to the sweet smell of soil. What will grow in that soil?