KnightofFellsia

Spring under a bright, blue sky… The glow of the afternoon sun cascaded over the brown and orange earth; the ground got its color from the constant heat blasting and the vast quantities of copper within the earth. Warm, humid breezes blew from the dozens and dozens of geysers throughout the high, rugged, rocky mountains and flat plains of the area. (Yet in the winter, snow came often and it came hard due to the nearby mountains; snow would also come year-round at random outside of the winter, once again because of the mountains.) Thanks to the warmth and frequency of the geysers, many a unique plant and animal bred here; nature abounde

How long did it take for it all to die? Years, months, weeks, days or a single evening, surely ripe regardless for the end of life long before its blossom. How did I come to be the last one to gaze upon this burning hellscape? Cruel fate marked an unfortunate soul, eventually meant to bear the testament of what was lost if anything had been lost all. How hot can these ruby and amber flames burn?    Endless ash snowbanking atop the Nature which now flourishes with no end, continuing to bury the remnants of this cold human world under searing cinder. How can these fires burn without any kindling? Ethereal, hallowed embers always continue to

Nature and humanity walk hand-in-hand Wilderness is the true path on the road to greatness Embracing our inner humanity is the key to the future Even still, we must forget our human culture If you believe such drivel, then kill yourself for the benefit of the world. Old, outdated ideas of a mutually beneficial relationship between us and Her are asinine Looking to the facade of wilderness in this day and age only blinds us further Taking in the dangers of our humanity wholeheartedly serves to hasten demise Abandoning our way of life is infinitely more harmful than trying to fix it If you believe we need the old and natural ways to advance, t

Darkest night endlessly canvassed for a grand work of art, awaiting to be painted by my gifted hand uncontent with idleness. What might you create? … Wonders. Things you could hardly imagine at first. Innumerable specks of lighted color spat upon a barren landscape, laying down a simple start for me to work from.    Is there more to this?        … Naturally. Stars act as my method to the madness for this ordered chaos. Even greater luminescence birthed from the specks to spread and advance the piece, bodies opening to shoot their photon streams of hue across inky black like arrows.    What are they supposed to do?        &

The once fiery kiln is exhausted and towers above to dominate the gray sky, Harken to the whisps of the ash, Listen to the wind and what it scavenges from the past, Accept what surrounds you, Admit that the end is nigh. The once alit kiln is dim and towers above to dominate the gray sky, Such a dark world, Night consumed me long ago, and I am yet a walking corpse, No longer do people live, there is only death, Death does not leave corpses here, only sullen and unending ash. The once thriving kiln has lost its use and towers above to dominate the gray sky, All around me is gray, Gray ashes, Gray wind and snow, All is gray in this corpse of a

If a rat weren’t crawling through the streets it could be a monster, Rubble and barbed wire stands where brick and mortar once resided, Filth as filthy as the worst that an imagination could conjure flowed down the cobblestone, No, now blood coursed down the River Styx, Who could have obliterated my home and transformed it into an Eldritch abomination? So little remains that this ghetto makes my old camp bunk for one with three seem like a hotel, Such emptiness made the tithe that was my heart sink into the abysm of my being, No souls here, not even mine, That old thing was useless to me after my trip to camp, My old friends there made

Angel of darkness soar through with hellish wings upon the cold, Angel of darkness greet your fields with delight and reunion, Angel of darkness permit the dark crimson rain to fertilize your crop, Angel of darkness bask in your realm of tenebrous and vitriol, Angel of darkness split open the fruit of life and collect her nectar as your own! Descend upon your awaiting grain with scythe in hand for harvest, Grain planted by your faithful and ever dutiful farmers, These seeds took years to grow, and some sprouted early, but grow did they all, Blood, tears, and sweat went into the birth of this sustenance, You had best not keep the planters wai