“You can’t suppress us.”
“Yes, we can.”
Dirt slides into a hole leading where no man wants to go. One push & I fall into hell.
There was a ghostly beauty 2 Hell & the Ragnorak she caused
at the end of all things
I found serenity in destroying the Ancients.
Music, herself, weeped as the grand concert halls collapsed. A single violinist dared to stand against Hell. His bow sang her doom.
A chunk of plaster fell
he bore down on the strings
his song moved the earth
a stone hand extruded from the rubble 2 shelter him.
And that dear friends is how the age of wonder died. There he stands still, a vision in plaster, playing in silence there after.