Life

Life

 

A thick cloud of fog covered the mystical city like a cover of hell.

The sky was burning red like blood spilt on glass.

Everywhere you go you heat men and women screaming with pain.

The cloud put a perfect cover under the setting sun.

The city was pitch black for somehow all lights had been distinguished.

People were dying and praying for help which they knew would never come.

Their time would come when the stone warriors would seek them out.

By morning the community was slaughtered.

Although blood had soaked streets and building walls, there was still life.

Everywhere you look there was everlasting life under the blood.

Death reigned over all the people but there was pure innocent life.

The city itself was alive.

Sticking through the blood were the cathedrals, buildings, and houses.

Death took the people but the city itself had it's own soul.