The Empty Corridor, No.000

In light of the innocent plowed from the earth, and the repulsive swine who idolize destruction, it seems that reason has melded into rhetoric and respect for life, which is an unteachable concept, culled from society and tossed into a rising mound of misery and distrust. In its place has formed a society encouraged to think more like slaves than like Kings. They have morphed into butterflies floating across the fields, greeting each flower with grace and aplomb. In their wake they leave dry land, infertile ground, life escaping through its flesh, its colors dull and worn. They drift back to their holes and fly again when the skies have cleared and the soul snatching predators have closed their eyes for a time.

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