For some there's a true art to it much like the delicate knocks of a sculptor's chisel are granular yet destructive - the way a shootist tears someone's life from their grasp with a bullet or a carefully chosen composition of words makes you unsee blood, only hearing violas and timpani scorching into crescendo.
Tag: violence
A church desolate offered ephemeral shelter for despite its isolation they came riding astride horses glistening in exhaustion daubed in black cloaks veils of shadow moving swords bright showering sparks dragged down stone aisle and inside broken sanctuary the hunted quivered like field daisies in a storm's portending gale.
When the hordes formed the horizon and arrows swathed the sky thousands died in virgin volley screaming their battle cry. Mire clogged dull armour and spittle burned their lips while axes pikes and spears fell from bloody beaten fingertips. Over corpses brethen and loved ones their weeping feet onward marched as silhouettes of bowmen … Continue reading Battle Cry
fallen staircase 