WHAT FOLIO IS DOING
I believe the night I’ve never met hides (the) one elusive star I need to divide me between darkness and light
Nothing can be sadder than the history of the starved and frightened wretches who wandered over the desolate crags and sands of wilderness and desert, the prey of famine, sword, and plague. Ignorant and superstitious to the last degree, governed by falsehood, plundered by hypocrisy, they were the sport of priests, and the food of fear.
Blood underneath feet spilt and soaked the bones of yesteryear, castrating the generations from divine influence, beheading possibility away from celestial passage.
Sinew from arrogant survivors tore apart their argument for living, spreading straining capillaries, thus feeding earth creatures the blood of life, who, yearning for sustenance, burrowed into the annals of earth, dragging any shred of soul-based remnants deeper - while screams of protest echoed far from heavenly escape.
Burrowing into earth's centre, creatures void of love and light digest human hope, spitting remnants of dotted light, flavourless bits, and defecating any means of revenge into the dirt-laden capillaries of the perpetual earth cycle of death over life.
More to come...
|Member Since:||Dec 07, 2018|
|Last Login:||Apr 26, 2019|
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