They Always Shoot The Messenger!
Through the mist it moved surely, lurking enough to not become a solid figure in the foggy sweeps and swirls that proceeded it. Hiding within the ominous layers of white pillowy mass. No one could see it coming...no one could hear its breathing, deep and hungry, and waiting. The quiet messenger could only watch. No call in the air, just a thin, doleful tone of warning.
When all else is taken away from you and you know of no such reminder of the world you knew, you become a part of that mist because it hides the scars of death. The silent voice that spoke of the dangers hidden in the mist was only echoed to those who were already invisible within it.
And so it was, the host of Seraphim...
https://jan.myahk.nl/muziek/Dead%20Ca...20Seraphim.mp3
When all else is taken away from you and you know of no such reminder of the world you knew, you become a part of that mist because it hides the scars of death. The silent voice that spoke of the dangers hidden in the mist was only echoed to those who were already invisible within it.
And so it was, the host of Seraphim...
https://jan.myahk.nl/muziek/Dead%20Ca...20Seraphim.mp3
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