Will Strawbridge Blank Slate of Despair
Prose
The endless ringing of eerie silence will forever mark the solitary realm of which I inhabit the infinite sprawl of mundane and isolation acts as a cage in this mortal world. The uninterested ambitions of others hinder the progress of the pioneers. Stopping short of overcoming an expanse of hell. Leaving barren tracks where I follow in the footsteps of progress, regretting, foreboding, these chasms of rock surround the infinite plain of desolate expanse.
Unfathomable beasts lay dormant on the outskirts of safety, aiding blasphemy as it surrounds, and consumes all. Impregnable fortresses of grandiose lay just out of reach. Once the few seeds of purity sprouted from these bastions of strength. Now they have been tapped into by heretics seeking to spread their grains of influence over vast steppes of nothing.
Barren grounds lay as abodes for mechanical beasts, rusted, forgotten, and bleached in the relentless sun. Once vessels for power, they now lay imposingly dormant. Waiting for a new era of prosperity to rein over the lands so they can be awoken once again.
A liminal dew engulfs these lands. Like the saying of goodbye knowing this will never happen again. Flowing rivers of wealth, and glory now lay dry, as the few remaining streams trickle down into the most ransacked of valleys. No more people commute through this expanse however, no one dares.
A myriad of sacred sites now remained bare and lifeless. Had they survived the fury of ardent rose-pink fire on the night of June 14th they would have served the purpose as swords of power, allowing the prophets of divine spiritism to project their power far beyond their thrones at SeiKolai.
A blank slate of emotionless desperation was made by the prophets in order to quell the masses wishing for the powerful few to capitulate. It failed. Soon the hordes of the disenfranchised were on the prophet’s doorstep. In an act of last resort, the Armageddon would have to begin. To cleanse the universe and start anew with a blank slate. The prophets never came back, however. They abandoned their domain and left the frail universe to fend for itself.
A harrowing reminder of how fast a world can buckle and fall to its own design due to intentional flaws in its execution by a few perfidious individuals blinded by the allure of grandiose power. A horrific reminder of what will become of everything if we become blinded with complacency. 34
