The Legend of Blackmorrow

The horrors began with a hush as banking empires locked their doors to balance grand consolidations and whittle tender values down. Upon resurrection, crowds gathered attempting to withdraw marrow wealth. Rotting complacency filled the vaults while floating paper clogged the aisles. We slumped on curbs without rent, begging for food priced beyond range. Work dwindled with no business loans, seething mobs raged through the streets. Tricked humans succumbed to changes demanded by the serpent line, implants to track and shape the flesh as decreed by prodigal lies. Rival factions gathered forces fighting networks of gridwork goons with just sticks and fists aimed to quash haughty golems gunning to kill. In the cripple caverns, kids wailed at each mortar shell blasting through. Some reached for guns, or drugs, or love, yet seldom did they feel alive. Above the clamor of destruction rose a voice of reason and passion asking with tenacity why we choose to buy the lies of these tyrants.      "No time left to borrow:      black day, black morrow!      We alone can end this sorrow." Left and right, we lowered our guard as brother recognized brother behind the grim technology, rising as one mass to reclaim life. In a voice filled with conviction our defender offered just plans as the bulldog of liberty he opened our eyes to the guise. It took seven days for us to meet at the seat of all benediction with the heart of the globe resounding to humanity's cries for redemption. Whenever evil looms to hunt I stand firm upon my beliefs thanks to Blackmorrow's quest for fact and the grace of united souls.