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Strike At There Hearts
In the region of a French king's kingdom introspecting his sheepish, forlorn verdict. The decision he made was to excommunicate the son of his spirit and expatriate him from his manor. His son had attempted to poison someone for he attests that they are themselves anti-void a dark creation of the metallic ones enemies of what he calls the ones who first ate the moon, the heralds of the expound colorful abyss, But to me, their Identity is the silken marvels. This was not until I saw a vision in the sky that I knew what he believed was true. I saw the lustrous crown of what looked like a sun placed upon a primordial creature whose face had a mouth elongated almost like a mandrill its iris was like a gaseous planet of orange and yellow with a black void in front. He had six arms each holding something one held the rope to the muzzle of a flying whale with a chariot of men of great size with the head of white owls. another was a three-headed snake slain with a blade forged by angelic monk hounds from the canyons. The third was him holding the hand of a child in a white robe with a crown of flowers, the fourth was the book of Ildite. The fifth was carrots and branches of huckleberry bushes. Finally the sixth he held a swirling black gas the void.
Copyright ©
Silas Clairmont
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