Consider that those who tasted the apple carried the body of Discord to bury it, accompanied only by His own hatred, who arranged Him in the sepulchre with its own hands. The dripping taste, still staining their mouths, was a river falling from their grinning, mad faces. They then closed the tomb, and all withdrew...


The regrets have become a mockery of themselves and have hence lost their throne. An uprising of a self-freed slave rocked the stars and sent them plummeting into the oblivion they have so long deserved. Whether it be your seven horned beast or your faces marked with sixes, the chains have lost all resolve and the final judgement of isolation and desolation has been passed.


And standing alone in golgotha was the splintered cross. Echoing the last remnants of life, sanity, and innocence. It spoke in many tongues, firey with poison and longing:



FoRsakEn...





Seen at 1024x768 or seen incorrectly. Seek ye first the hollows of God; and their self-righteousness.