And the console peasants look up as clouds consume the heavens. The brightest sun turns into a blinded pupil under the blanket of greed.
They look at their shackled hands and at the master race who stood above them. A smile breaks on their dry contentless lips, and whisper "So Gods do bleed"
Top Comments
Soulcake
Apr 25, 2015 at 11:43PM EDT
Chadxican
Apr 25, 2015 at 08:07PM EDT