Sudden Fiction Poetry: Piece 2
Never Ending War
An eerie half crescent glow stretches and meanders intermittingly across the sanguine horizon, blossoming a false hope to those vile creatures who bask in the light.
This unclean spoil is like that of shadow under day, a stark reminder of that which exists beyond the other. As battle rages on for evermore, this sickening stale mate drives the wicked to exile at day break.
Woe the power of light, holy father of Dark, muster your almighty power and achieve true victory and release us to conquer and devour all.
But for now be fleet of foot my children for time is short as night turns to day...
Tuesday, 10 November 2009
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