My god just happened to me yesterday

And it shone blood, dark red blood.

The papers are red, the peepers are bled.

Shall we ever forgive us for being born? Shall we resurge with new hands for new signs?

Or will our fate slide towards inevitable mud? The question is lit, in every human nerve, but in mine burning coal replaces burning eyes and I cry in the Pompeian destruction of my heart.

Stand tall for those who fail.

This will be my last command,

Stand tall for those who fail.