#944674 added November 1, 2018 at 8:09pm Restrictions: None
Through the Fog [282]
Grey clouds shroud mountains, darken the valleys of despair between my brows. The fear of "others" grips this nation, borrows into brains and corrodes the hearts. Who is left feeds off past glories unable to renew their selves. Zombies now walk through the fog in the Land of Plenty. When they have harvested what hate has killed they'll proclaim themselves rulers — of what's been sucked out — of nothing.
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