These folly and fiendish with lavishly keen grins, they stand in front of the maze awaiting the cross into footstools. They corrupt the mindset of the townspeople, attacking from every inch of space in between those who cross them. Your swords clanked into the wounds of the pleasurable, financiers planned your demise years in advancement. You drool from the peculiar nature of them who sit at your feet, you believed once that it would fade away into the distance wind. Gocking they snared, their eyes seemed so spiteful in your mountain. Those eyes of a fiery red base, could you even find peace within it. I know its probable, I know you can’t see the other side for what it really is. You played too long into the deep waters, they attack you like knifes to your throat. Slashing away, as if to be indifferent to your pain and suffering.
Contributor- Chris Ballenger