Nathrangking

Set Destiny?

When from the upper realms come tears spilled over the cubs, lioness, and elder torn away do the heights truly cry? Do the cosmos rake their flesh in mourning and allow agony to pierce them through? Sorrow is a weight, but does it weigh down the stars where they burn? Stones of the Earth should absorb none of the guilt and absolve no shame shed by the skies for watching in silence. Ground which took their blood as libation and will reclaim them may you be barren and forever cursed for your silence.

Where were the cries and trembling that ought to have taken hold of the whole of creation and broken shackles so utterly? The depths never unleashed it's might against the disease which leeches all vitality until nothing but nightmares even damnation could never even have conceived of remain. How was innocence stolen away with glee and relish leaving behind nothing but destruction untamed to roam? Tearing flesh and the crunch of bone are ignored by an uncaring universe.

Why are anathema beyond mortal description not taking the place of the formerly whole untainted slain? Shattered fragmented land oozes with its poison flowing freely without any bounds to hold back the tide. Fires shear thought and sanity from spirits smitten and trampled underfoot. Whimpers are unable to rise up from where they lay entombed within the dead that have become desecrated wisps. Would that phantoms would haunt legions that formed them from the mold of life. No power rests within them to be specters of justice and so darkness is ascendant. 

What hellscape is this where hordes march from the depths and drag all down youths and the aged into shadow? Broken bodies thrown from this reality are still eternally more and are now little more than the foodstuffs for the maggots. Flickering light vanquished forevermore fades away into the aether that cared not. Smoke takes all into itself obscuring and crossing all lines borders. That which it brings rips free with primordial violence the heart and frees oceans which can never know an end.

Which of you jewels in the swirling galaxies heard moments ended and loosed your arrows of silver and ruby upon the enemy? Blinding archers whose might put out no eyes and saw nothing at all be chained by guilt. Sink into the deepest pit and go out as your light is now and forevermore forfeit. Nevermore will your radiance illuminate and spread beyond the sepulchre in which you rest. Sobs are seen, but if they are true is something that resides beyond the veil which fell over all.