Yorktown Disciple
When the light of Holy Rapture speeds to the earth and men of crudely infused atoms stir the pot of selfishness and take up arms against apposing ideas -faith matters. 

uddenly, trust in epicurean sin cannot override the wailing sounds of cowards and thieves. 

The blood of the Almighty washes quiescent rust from the unbeliever and monastic hurricanes cut selfish thoughts from the stubborn mind. 

Alas, pages of misery are ripped from the substance of sinners and darkness hides the smug, splintered fool.. Only prayer remains.
Yorktown Disciple
Poem Code 4G

Mystic Man

Pages Of Misery - Yorktown Disciple
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