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Sorage55

Text A Burst of Inner Literature

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Through endless wastelands he walks along a broken path, his mind shattered within ages and ages of reckless pressure brought upon this poor boy. Who is he? Where is he going? He carries only a sword and daggers at his side, entering a valley of rock and blood. He was unknown he IS unknown. The sun sweltering the burning sands about his always motioned feet. He walks along and spys there, a field rat, startled, squeeling bleeds. Looking up he sees the murder, dark creatures of dark hearts with no heartfull origin. Eyes glowing with what intelligence they keep, demons of the darkest pit of hell, mindlessly emerging from their pools of self. The boy was scared, not afrighted, he had seen the devils before and understands their ways. With a screech the first dashes at him with electric speed and faceless feature, the boy of age 15 draws his sword and it unleashes light of heaven. Blood-curdling shreiks the demon fades, the other two jump from behind. Two daggers tossed into their empty skulls, close to ground I see the blade. Dark-stained continue cutting weeds and shade. "Till time end bodies, but souls anone." continues the boy on his path of no emotion, to tears, no anger, no hate. He will save us all.

 

 

 

 

 

I have sudden bursts of crappy literature in my head and I have to write them down somewhere T_T srry for wasting your time.

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