The Call of the Hungry Crow(end)
Men of whom are Born with great promise - who at a young age, show the judgment and understanding of prominant figures who are many years their senior. Young but formidable leaders in the face of uncertainty whose seemingly viral influence among peers is bred by an iron clad confidence. A confidence in which was divinly inherent but inspired by man. Their obsession with success compells them to improve their surroundings to the very last person and detail. An amatuer presence of a professional grade. Known to make better, or worse, the lives of the many who were so fortunate to cross paths in their journey through life.
Blessed is he, who is able and eager to receive the issues of more common men with patience and compassion. And blessed is the commoner who sought out his council, knowing no sin's are so deadly as pride.
And Blessed he'll be until that day he use his gifts against virtue, that day that morality is lost in his conscious; and his spiritual being is ravenously devoured by worldly idol's. Feast upon until all that is left of him may only exist on this earth.
So be it the demise of all those who conform to the oppression of their fellow humans. Who forsake their own species in search of an eternal name.
his wealth is vast his power runs deep and though His time will seem endless for a while
- Paranoia is an endless storm and will plunge his aging vessel into an abyss of uncertainty. He would be Anxious to his dying breath, living forever in fear. Afraid because Only now at the apex of money and power could he - or would he realize the bitter sweet taste of his Ill found success. That peace of mind has never been bought. Albeit that his was the highest branch in the tree it was the least of forgiving. The winds blow much colder up here he pondered quietly in a lonely distress. Trying desperately to forget the only wisdom he'd ever ever come by without having earned it one way or another. As irony would have it, he knew now hed pay dearly for having ignored it back then. A vivid memory in his mind - A carving in the bark of the tree he'd sought refuge from the stresses of his youth. It read: "No Sins are so Deadly as Pride". Nowas they did then the murders of crow's cawed furiously in competition for their next meal. Only now in his mind they were calling these words but more numerous and desperate than he'd remembered. He knew in his ice ridden heart that everyday forth it would be his flesh for which the hungry crow's called for, and not before long it would be his blood that was quenching their thirst.