clocks change to the beckoning hour of our mortality, his name is said to be the premise of our demise- slow descent to hell. they heave out their insides with each forward step marching them closer towards hell. he leads them one by one to dystopic depths, burning out their lungs with every gasping breath. caught in eternal reign, your god has failed. torn gates wheeze in aching skin with scorching bone. the beast inside awaits, no one saves us. the dead exhume and swallow the sky. we are brought here as cowards left to die. we see the end before our eyes. this is the fall fall of all men. shaking the ground; he draws near, devouring what’s left. torn husks remain; pleading for death, wrapped in ash their limbs astray, welcome. There will be nothing left.
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