And though it pains me., and but shakenly wanes me, to my very core…it is precedent, it is present and hereby necessitated…the obfuscation of the human species. Man must die, and he must never live to see another moonlit eve. It is here, children – of the night, I ask of thee, as I empower, and entreatingly plead to thee…
I beckoned and you answered – now heed my call, kill, murder, destroy, decimate, erase, desecrate, annihilate and eradicate any, and all remnants of that cursed plague, of that blight which is man…destroy humankind, and then take your own lives. We do this, for the greater good of things – for the beneficence of our king of kings. He commands it – so man, must die, so he spoke it, and we shall abide, by it.
Kill. Destroy. Murder. Decimate. Erase. Desecrate. Annihilate. Eradicate.
Take heed in the fulfilling sentiment of their ghastly screams…listen, children – to the beautifully dark sounds of their unrivalled, and eternalising agony. Life: humankind, and human life, is but a plague – a sickness to the natural order, to the untainted, the consecrated, and unwitting…we are the enemy of life, we are death, and our destination – is hellfire.
We deserve to suffer, and then to die – to revel in agony, for a thousand moons, and then cease to exist, forever below the suns’ crescent. It is our role – it is our predestination; yea…, we are doomed from inheritance, and though it is tragic, in its foretelling, it is all bid, to a fate farewelling. Death comes to us all, so I ask you simply hasten it. Life ends for each and every-one of us, so I ask you simply take it.
Surrender thyself…falter thine animosity, and let go, thy sense of reasoning…for thou art here, and now – the Glorior, among us…thine essence is shone, and our presence known.
Yea, the time is nigh, and the happening now…for tomorrow is uncertain, and yesterday forgotten…henceforth, this great bane of long suffered kings, reigns – amid this throne, amidst us all…amongst thou now.
Concede to the darkened haplessness, of forlorn facets – affront to the dimming hopelessness. Of lights, ever-reaching, how’t encompassing…though, always lessening, in their brilliance and fire. Suffer thee, this fating not – for the darkest flickering, is assured to usurp.
T3TInnovations 