|If people still don't know, I'm more active on Tumblr rather than here.|
UltimatumSlowly softly the air blows aroundUltimatum by Fidelis-Raor
A figure moving silently still
Towards a destination only he knows.
And he knows it best.
High upon the rocky points
Of claw curved mountains in the west
Lies a grassy field
A plain of sorts
With oily grass and sandy stone,
Stone bleached white like old man’s bones.
Through the field across the stream
There on the mountain peak it seems
A settlement of sorts holds still.
Holds still in time
An art divine.
No other craft could seem so pure,
So alive, so full
Of energy and time.
They breathe electric, they use their voice
They gather power in their chorus
Then it escapes and with it life
Into the hillocks off ice and lime.
No more do springtime winters come
No more do people cross the lands.
Only insects crawl and breathe their breath
But no lightning comes
And no magic waits.
Only the End.
My name is Sin. I'm 23. "I'm wise beyond my years, yet still a kid at heart."
Note- Please don't give me llamas, I neither want them nor will I return them (hence why I don't have the llama badge showing) thanks.