We stood as the Architects of the Apocalypse, Safe in our Thoughts of Superiority as we prepared to Harvest the storm, Let loose the Forthcoming fires of the weapon they fear. They stood as helpless as the naked amongst the wolves. We stood as the trespassers to the shores of their world. Their only hope was to stay the course of the final march, and implore the darkened skies for the bombs of their saviors. Then it came. Against all lies, all forsaken promises of atonement, those forlorn skies gave birth to a dying ember, which grew to a blaze like a thousand suns. They stood behind a wall of silence, the few upright witnessed the conclusion of this competition of hatred, and with Open arms to the future, Those last alive shed black tears for the fallen.
Posted on: Mon, 29 Jul 2013 22:40:15 +0000
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