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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required 46 moons following the 5th winter democracy has yet offered its charis for partaking. "Gather yee faithful slaves," "drink from thy cup," it beckons. Having danced to the sweet empty promises, and wore the affiliated regalia of sheer stupidity, it is time to proclaim, how deep it goes. A manifestation, of a prior auction where rights have already been sold for less than 3 silvers. Multitudes, from all corners of the fire nation, gather in the bare mushroom of a scorching sun, Ready to cast lots, and choose the next captain for the ship engulfed in fire. Each slave, convinced of the prowess and abilities of their captain. "A" argues, "he is experienced and knows the routes to steer us out of danger and lead us to a safe harbor." While "B" laments, "though we may seem lost, he still knows the route that leads to Canaan." Another proclaims, "it is better to redirect the ship back to Egypt; at least we ate meat that compensated the lashes on the back." Either could be right or wrong, but then again what defines a right or wrong? Perhaps it's better to commit the sin of indifference, and watch from the terraces as "D" suggests? Either way, every option is a covenant in itself, A pact made by man to a fellow Adam. A choice that defines a mixed bag of unknowns to be unleashed in the next unforeseeable future. Welcome to the covenant of choosing a lesser Devil.
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