Behold, ye' traveler, and be wary.
For these lands are stained with ash and blood.
On this barren world, gray in its expanse,
there once was life abundant.
Then burned the halo of fallen grace,
and the heart of man was devoured by misguided passion.
No reason, no pity,
the gods of war had blown their horns.
So horror befell,
and silence rained incarnate.
A monument to Death,
the pillars of society stood as phantoms,
black in the light of two suns.
And upon the loss of their domain,
silence screamed.
For even those with honest hearts
had scorched the Earth with good intentions.
Still a work in progress.
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