Vengeful you are, letting a boy feel the suffering of three life times. When he awoke, my charge, it was gentle sobs that quickly became wails . He would scream at the sight of his own blood dripping from his chin. I held him...for three days after my last entry. How could such a scrawny thing be so livid!? tharshing and bawling choking on bargins to your Lord and Savior. I whispered prayers even though he could not hear me I truely believe he felt them. He's at peace now and I wish I could say the same for his father who is pale, vomit staining his lips brought on by the sight of his controted child. As I clean the body I pray to Lazarus may he press a hand upon Henery's heart and whisper life into the ear of the dead solider. I pray to thee send my message, Dear Lord. Amen.
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The Angel's Trumpet
FantasyDelysia Jones The patron Saint of Rebellion. Of those who pray to her, those who awake in the night staring into the eyes of a dead king weighing on their chest, those who sail in blood and bury luxury within the earth. Pray to her when war wages...
