And the voices creep in, like water through a dam. The visions that come are sickening. Seeping and pouring their way in turning my fabled intentions into dark realities. Yet in the silence I hear them talking. Scheming to destroy the Beacon, scheming to destroy justice. Taking control would have its price for the mouth of mist said.
And this is what remains! The shell of a man with nothing but mistakes. I am left with sleepless nights to guide me. Vigilance unto damnation! Salvation is merely perception. And they tell me I am enough to pave the long road to redemption.
To their necks they are buried, in the heat left to die. On boards they lay hands and feet are tied. Between hammer and hands he placed the nails. Driving them in with the anger of weakness and the delusions of righteousness. They beg promise and plea, their words fall onto a mind clamoring.
Spare me your ignorance. Avoid the lies that spew from your mouth. What will happen when this is all left in ruin? When the hands of fate pummel into the Earth leaving behind only the wicked? When all good men are gone I won’t be left shaking my fists and questioning the sky. Vigilance unto damnation. So coarse is the world. This grit unbearable this grit unbearable.
Lost in voices that are not his own he chokes on idea so bitter only with the intention of making life better to provide haven and shelter. As their hoisted towards the sky, pillars of shame they gather and watched and not a word was spoken for tyranny walked above the road of the voiceless.
Yet within the silence I hear them talking scheming to destroy the Beacon. Taking control would have a price for the mouth of Mist said. And I feel the way he touched me I’m changing. The fear of death is climaxing and I cannot surmise this paranoia that escalated me towards the darker side. Is this preservation, contempt or hatred?
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