Pressure on the inner walls of my brain grows heavier. I must =
Alleviate the pain I feel, for soon many will die as they come =
Before me with effortless attempts. The search for divine power =
Beckons me and the only way to achieve is to destroy. Victims of a =
Torn society lay in waste, as I pick through the bloody carcasses. =
Dead bodies just seem to fall before me. =
Saving the most edible morsels, the weak ones scatter. With bloody =
Weapon in hand, I tear through the limbs. Cries of anguish filter =
Through the land, echoing in the valley. Many have tried to come =
Before me with effortless attempts. I sift my way through the fields =
Of dead bodies, stopping to take a trophy or two.
=
The fields run deep and far, for I have killed many and I must =
Travel far to reach my destination.
=
My final resting place, where I will be reborn. For now, the air is =
Still, smell of dead bodies is ever so prevalent. I am the last and =
Here I shall remain. The pain I have once felt is lifted from my =
Being. Villages of useless waste, a race witch does not deserve to =
Live. I reek havoc amongst the children from a present with no =
Future,
For I am the strong and those who defy me lay in waste. The days of =
Travel are long and the stench of how many I have killed lingers on.
I am tired and need rest, but the forces pulls me to my =
Destination. =
