The boy pressed his templet to the graveled chamber linked fence, moderators fell curious to the enriched cards in the deck of mankind’s perrel. Your issue chased you, it fought for the attention of the elders in a room filled with angst. Rumors of your demise spread throughout the land mines, founded boulders wrapped in chains. The war of wisdom is a test of vigorace planning, the mindful tombstone awaits your presence there. Those bridges you found in paralyzing agony. Horrors no man should ever witness, gravesites riddled with black paint. You disgrace the dead, you mock the living in between the worlds of a transgressive resurgence. Those people would never get back there respect, they would never again find peace for what you’ve done to them.
Contributor- Chris Ballenger