THE STORM ACHE

Have I fallen into the darkness? The place where the unkind creatures show off their mindless deed.

Their dull souls have been engulfed by me with this desire of the genocide. The Seeds have taken control of this body, molded the ancient armor shaped like a Moth God. I have traveled miles seek for guidance, but no one tell me that, is there any mythical creatures or so-called God-like giving guidance for a wanderer like me? Or is it just, the only wrath that has boiled my blood and turned it into bloodshed?

Ishtar, the sword of the storm, the armament of the God of War have unsheathed by me. Halved the body of the headless hollow, shattered and turned into ashes. The sky shone brighter as it should, heir its light to the blessed wanderer.

The sun has started to sunk, but the flame still perch in my lung. The wind would be my guidance, lead me to the great enigma.