𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀𝐒 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐈𝐓𝐘&𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍𝐄𝐃

Godless.

That was all we were. Nothing more, nothing less. —And now, that was all that we would ever be.

When he first came we had thought him beautiful, the only light in this world of eternal night, the flickering flame to guard the great and banish the blasphemous from the fight.

But he alone had killed God, only to declare himself a deity of the damned, and condemn the cardinal to weep beneath the willow, wishing for what once was.

We were too far gone. He had torn the heavens from the sky, risen hell from beneath our feet and slaughtered saints and sinner alike.

Hallowed was the hope that one day the pleas to the pious would be heard and a single soul was all it would take to save us from the destruction.
—But that way would never come.
He killed them. He had killed all, every last saviour we had ever known, and cast dawn as bitter scarlet as the day we were born.

He strung up the ones we had once worshiped, and hung them from the house of the holy.

Days bled into weeks and weeks bled into months, and one by one we watched them rot.

He did not care, not for the hands that prayed, or the knees that wept, or the eyes that cried out without words to do what no one could but someone must, and how one by one bodies began to fade away into foreign dust.

He and he alone had doomed the earth to die.
—He was hate. He was chaos. He was anarchy itself.

He, was the deity of the damned.