Deep growls as a base of settlement, pulsating within our chests.
He who should arrive does not answer to foretold prophecy, for he manifests in free will, and is present.
A booming roar stabs the earth with a long lost entitlement of despair.
Blinding the eyes of a thousand, plaguing his name to billions.
A small twinkle seen from above is what electrified him, a flame given to mortal blood, the key for their beginning to godliness.
Fire spreads like fear, but so does knowledge.
He echoes down in radiance, his presence waving the approaching faithless to salt.
But a girl stands before him.
The flame in her hands burning away his intensity, showered onto her like a shield.
"Who have you told" his voice cracking the girls skin, her eyes fading white with his each word.
She bares still, holding the flame.
"Who" he bursts, as the girl rips to stone.
Her last breath to him is withered by "you"
A field of stars upon earth, army distantly around him.
Striking scream of death, change of fait, this village exist no more unless existence is limited to ash.
Clouds thicken, winds cry.
Rain weighs down with sorrow, each drop a tear from the gods, but mainly his...
What wars could drag this inevitable end painfully, the undying truth of all.
Their genocide falling into a void by kneeling under this rain, by letting their flames die under his cry.
Worship can keep you be, respect allows you to live.
His gaze vanishing to retreat as they darken without light.
Kneeling under the rain.
