A shadow descends upon the crowd as they look on in wonder at the spectacle before them. Encrusted in jewels, their god is sacrificed by the weight of self obsession amongst his followers, and they realise too late it was they who killed him.
The purple mist shrouds the dancers on the stage, clothing them in an ethereal skin and reflecting their inner desires, but they can only see themselves, and they revel in it. It was beautiful to see, yet heart wrenching to watch, as the king was torn of his crown and his memory was thrown against the wall
tattered
torn
defiled
Yet he still believes. He still struggles.
And the crowd grow impatient, baying for blood, thirsting for slaughter;
But the silence that trails from his mouth satisfies them none at all, and he knows it.
Tattered, torn, and defiled, he stands defiant as his last breath crawls between his teeth...
The purple mist shrouds the dancers on the stage, clothing them in an ethereal skin and reflecting their inner desires, but they can only see themselves, and they revel in it. It was beautiful to see, yet heart wrenching to watch, as the king was torn of his crown and his memory was thrown against the wall
tattered
torn
defiled
Yet he still believes. He still struggles.
And the crowd grow impatient, baying for blood, thirsting for slaughter;
But the silence that trails from his mouth satisfies them none at all, and he knows it.
Tattered, torn, and defiled, he stands defiant as his last breath crawls between his teeth...
