One to be celebrated, and one to be feared. One embodiment of guilt, and one symbol of innocence. One that deserves to be immortalized, and one that deserved to be executed. One that inflicted violence, and one that brought peace. One conduit of love, and one hotbed of hate. One pit of darkness, and one beacon of light. A people captivated by what is left and what is right.
The horizon quietly smolders, a war between The Behemoth and The Leviathan has commenced. Already both have been slain, but yet their armies still yearn for battle; its monocular gaze has found us hidden amongst the debris, where we secretly pine for more torture. We dance and we mourn, we laugh and we weep, and in so many fashions provide funerals. The day of judgement draws nearer, lest we escape our own.
Creek, out.
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