In The Halls Of White Death by Merrimack
The journey goes on from the grey childhood to the fires
of faith, the signs are followed among shadows, rats and
wrecks. Through Hell and snow I go as they laugh and
scream and wallow naked in the poisonous cold fields,
roused in the comforting drunkenness. The journey goes
on, time passes by and the sky is still grey and this
greyness is the greatest of sins: the gentle snow which
buries the souls and the world. And the sky is a lie,
home of the cold black sun of a malignant god. Let it
shine and feed the legions of fools. Let it shine and
inspire those to bear its sight. And from the other side
|
