the inherent beauty of the mob
is in the fluidity of their anger
it is the colors of burning buildings
the music of guttural chants
the freedom granted by inevitable destruction
and the finality
of their judgment
it is in the perfection of collective enmity
and the clamant rectification of flaws perceived
so that in the end
all that remains
is the disarrayed corpse of the mob
and the excrement of it’s existence
not as a force of humanity
but as a mechanism
of wanton ferality

Dragon-Man and Drent prepared to face off, in a fight one would not survive.
Breastplate-Bearer was grinning from ear to ear, because in these environments he thrived.
Lady of the Night and Message took their positions, and listened for Dragon-Man’s signal.
Then Drent cried out, I want all of them wiped from this forsaken planet, and Message giggled.
What’s so funny, Drent barked, and Message laughed, You will never be good at a Battlefare Intonment.
Brother you were always the one to take the good and turn it into Drent.
Brother! Lady of the Night and Dragon-Man asked in utter shock.
Yeah he is a Dahomeyian and a useless, spoiled chip off the old block.

The Bracti took out their Howitzer-Rockets and Drent said, **** everything that moves!
Lady of the Night fought valiantly, as if she had something to prove.
Message reached out with her Death-Hand and put it into a Bracti’s chest.
By the time she reached the other side, he was a bloodied pulp of a mess.
Dragon-Man tried to get close to Drent, but Bracti were always interfering.
Meanwhile Breastplate-Bearer was fighting strong like a warrior apparent.
Suddenly everyone heard a voice to stop, that was so strong they fell to that command.
Both Dragon-Man and Drent tumbled down together, but they were so weak they could not stand.

Who are you, asked Dragon-Man in a tone enfeebled by this noise that did not destroy.
I am the The Covenantal Project, it replied, The masteress of the Chyrsanium Alloy.
I am the Marshal who presides over the Dragon Power, and called you to the Federation.
Drent, you will be head of the Patriot Knight Way, and fight alongside Dragon-Man.
And why should I obey you, sneered Drent as he got up off of shaken knees.
It is a choice, said The Covenantal Project, but this time choose wisely.
Drent snarled, How can I fight alongside someone I always wanted to decimate?
And Dragon-Man replied angrily, It was not just you, I too fought a long time with hate.
But if this is true, we must put aside our differences and fight as a Federation to be free.
We will either bury our enemies together, or our enemies will bury us separately.
                  
Drent said, See this face, how could I lead a Knight Way of the Federation with these features!
The Covenantal Project said, There is a Nectarskin with healing balm that cure your Injury Fevers.
Message was smiling, Lady of the Night was frowning and Breastplate Bearer was talking to Bractii.
Drent said, Okay, and Dragon-Man whispered, It will be alright, I too would have fought me.
The Dragon-Power were watching the proceedings, and most of them could not have more glee.

Segril of the Dragon-Power was saying, the Federation is fully formed, and now we can Battlefare.
Etil was silent because he did not realize the Covenantial Project would arrive over there.
Dragon-Men asked Drent, So, where is the Logre Markets I heard so much above
Drent said in a hushed tone, They are closed for this Quadrant Rotation because of the Clamant joust.
They take beings from other planets and turn them into Paridiate Gladiators.
We would have to lay low until it is over, because they might take us for later.
Message chirped, O Brother, are you afraid of a little Claimant jousting  because of your youth.
Drent was silent because he knew that his sister’s words were the absolute truth.

The Diablo Robots arrived to Drozen, and one of them asked Please master have mercy.
Drozen snarled, Mercy is for creatures who win, and deserve that right as worthy.
I will not **** you, but you will go to Lavaic Mines to make my weaponry.
Perhaps in the future I will take you and you will be of some use to me.
Etil and the Council of the Faceless Tongues were arguing over the next plan.
Drozen said, I will take care of all of them, Drent, the Federation and Dragon-Man.
The Legate said, I sense a presence that I have not seen a long Realmic span.
Is it Drozen? Asked Dialect, No, it is the someone I actually respects.
The being who spans  against rotations and against spans,  the Covenantial Project.

Have you ever stared at someone for a long moment that you actually catch yourself being hypnotized by their absolute impeccable beauty? They posses curvy lips with a soft plumpness texture to them. The way their perfect, oval shaped and squared eyes stare at you with a dark brown pupil gazing right into your abyss soul. Everything about them just makes you warm on the inside only to find out you are perspiring a bit.
  You admire this person's physical beauty extensively, that from this clamant moment you know you have to act up and analyze their way of talking, the movement of their lips and eyes, the sway mobility of their body as they take their every step, and finally they position of their head when they are having a conversation with you. An obsession with this person's body starts taking over you and makes you catch any quirky body gesture that they do not realize on their own. Once you finish examining their eyes and lips you move on to their untarnished oval and slender face. Along with their semi-white teeth when they smile.
  This individual does not appreciate their own beauty to themselves, but others can see it and be mesmerized by it. Wishing to just bury your lips to theirs in a rather violent manner, wanting to just stare at their eyes in a steady position without them thinking you are odd for doing so, and praying for them to let you caress their soft and light skin with your sinful and promiscuous hands. After all of that, you find yourself un-hypnotized only to find out that you can never ever do these things to this beautiful creature. Not because they are not compatible with you. Not because their personality isn't wondrous. But because they are distant.  Knowing you have to see and interact with this person four days out of the week, you find yourself staring at this person from a long distance when they are not looking. And peek a crocket smile as you look down at the floor when they turn around.
  Too distant from you and too oblivious to notice that you've turn all of their flaws into an absolute immaculate piece of art that should be hanged on a hallow pure wall while it is worshipped by many.
  For this reason I shall wake up from my false dream and walk out of the door with all of my feelings, desires, and hopes thrown into a bin called the American dream.