In silence, we hear the stifled wails of dying children. Those delivered unto the hand of Death...infants, toddlers, those unborn. It's a cacophony of white static...a low roar like a distant ocean at high tide.
In darkness, our eyes pick out the writhing bodies of tortured innocents. Young, mutilated, starved, depraved and maddened by the betrayal of those most trusted and those most believed. And we...we continue hoarding our defenses and crowding the lines.
Masses. Throngs of eager, hungry, misanthropic zombies. Shoulder to shoulder. Awaiting the awakening. Eating the flesh of their flesh. Tearing greedily into whatever poor soul dares to come to close. Molesting, raping, pillaging the playgrounds and the ones who should have seen only the light. Their stone-deadened eyes a permanent black scar within their sunken faces.
Green sun rising and setting on a chrome-and-silver land. Slick oil rain gently falling from the jagged, bitter skies. The screams and shouts of some unattainable and furious God of Wrath, Jealousy, and Lust ricocheting between the blinding flashes of self-righteousness and fear.
