He tears our existence from our fragile bodies as we sit and watch the constant death of the . The rules are set, the game is played, the world is lost. The Altered world watches in horror as it tears itself apart, piece by piece. The streets echo with the screams of the lost, and but one can calm their pasts....... 

    It was set loose to help, but the neverending torment it caused was the paradox of the masses. It sucks their lives out, blurrs their visions of reality, turns their existence to bone. Some were not lost, but were soon destroyed by those they loved most. And all the time, it sits in its lair, watching the world writh past. Soon, it thinks, soon. The one may come, but may not help. No human can know until the time comes........

    The shattered, broken pasts of the lost sit behind their shield until they are uncovered by one who can hear their desparate plea. They hold their memories and mourn over the horror that passed on that one fateful day when the world was altered. They see what is happening, feeling the world slip away.........

art thou quite sure, dark worshipper?
"Nature raves savagely, ravaging the lands"...and it is the trees that take the blame.
Inside the dark hole that thou livest thrive the dark one's minions, and when the time comes, they shall rise up and eat thine heart out with a rusty spoon of epic proportions...
Upon thine own heart shall the guilt of the failure of our stronghold lay...
And nothing can protect the from thine own heart, unless ye shall cut it out with thine own pizza!

yay its poetry time