Sandscript soliliquies.
Archaic preambles.
Relics of buried riches.
The hieroglyphic hovel of a civilization’s somnambulant sanctuary.
The foreboding injustice of treacherous longevity, strewn across eons of human despair.
I cannot. I will not. I am not. Because I see. Because I know.
I am incensed. I am relentless.
The pirouette of plagues and famine,
The fire of heaven’s anger
,All doused by a mere thimble of water,
The thunder of Hell,
Quieted by the sparrows chirping.- Sinz