YEARS OF WAR.
A GREAT NATION OF FEARLESS WARRIORS
WIELDING SWORDS
BROUGHT TO ITS KNEES BEFORE IT COULD SEAL THE DOORS
SQUEALING HORDES. DEATHLY BEFUDDLED.
SHADOWS OF THOSE WHO NEVER WITNESSED BATTLE
ETCHED IN THE RUBBLE.
A MANS TEMPTED TO CHUCKLE.
PATHS CLOSE WHILE GRIEF GRABS THOSE
LEFT TO THE STRUGGLE
AS THE MAD GLOW LETS THE MAN KNOW
WHAT HE'S LEFT TO SUCCUMB TO.
A SLOW DEATH.
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EVERYBODY I KNOW GOT WEED OR GOT POWDER
BUT I AINT GOT EITHER. GOT ALOT OF DEMONS
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