He Who Wages War's Den
Hell is War and War is Sin
Sin is charming; it is kind. Never alarming and Sin will never be rude. It is quiet and subtle, never bold or brave. It is the opposite of your expectations; this gives you leave to trust it. You find security in its Calmity, peace in its affection, quiet in its slow, gentle beat. It tempts you with soft, little whispers; offers you rewards and treats and lulls you into a sense of security.
War is often crass, crude- rather the opposite of Sin. War is closed off and often mean; yet theres a discipline you respect and admire. War is not kind, though it is neither cruel. It is blunt- yet you enjoy it's straightforwardness.
Hell is hot; burning flames that tempt you ever closer. Hell is beautiful, you believe. Warm tones of red, orange, and yellow mimick the glow of a dying sun; a peaceful image in your mind. It reminds you of times with your father, deep in the woods, singing songs around a campfire. Hell brings back happy memories and so you step ever closer, despite the danger- danger your father warned you of.
You turned a blind eye to their true natures- what is war without blood? What is Sin without consequences? Is Hell not meant for the damned?
Sin waits for you to grow comfortable; to fall in love with its undeniable temptations. You cannot resist- you never tried; you believed its false security and blanket of trust. You stand no chance; its far to late. It's like a bucket of water drops on your head- you can't escape. You've grown fat from it's lies and sluggish from its rewards.
War has turned on you- War was never your friend. It rages battles in your mind and wars in your heart. It confuses logic with passion and darkens your soul. It yearns for your blood and urges the blade to your throat- too late you realize you're the one holding the dagger. War is subtle that way- the discipline you once admired having taught it that.
Hell is as its always been- hot, blazing hot. You were too foolish to realize. At least once thing is consistent- Hell never changed. The heat you once put with your father is now consuming you alive. Who is to blame but yourself? Hell tried to warn you, yet you failed to listen. Hell roasts you in the convictions of your sins and the wrath of your wars; You can't escape, don't even try. There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide- you've already stepped inside. You're stuck in the burning abyss of anguish that you willingly stepped into.
Sin is War and War is Hell.
Sin is charming; it is kind. Never alarming and Sin will never be rude. It is quiet and subtle, never bold or brave. It is the opposite of your expectations; this gives you leave to trust it. You find security in its Calmity, peace in its affection, quiet in its slow, gentle beat. It tempts you with soft, little whispers; offers you rewards and treats and lulls you into a sense of security.
War is often crass, crude- rather the opposite of Sin. War is closed off and often mean; yet theres a discipline you respect and admire. War is not kind, though it is neither cruel. It is blunt- yet you enjoy it's straightforwardness.
Hell is hot; burning flames that tempt you ever closer. Hell is beautiful, you believe. Warm tones of red, orange, and yellow mimick the glow of a dying sun; a peaceful image in your mind. It reminds you of times with your father, deep in the woods, singing songs around a campfire. Hell brings back happy memories and so you step ever closer, despite the danger- danger your father warned you of.
You turned a blind eye to their true natures- what is war without blood? What is Sin without consequences? Is Hell not meant for the damned?
Sin waits for you to grow comfortable; to fall in love with its undeniable temptations. You cannot resist- you never tried; you believed its false security and blanket of trust. You stand no chance; its far to late. It's like a bucket of water drops on your head- you can't escape. You've grown fat from it's lies and sluggish from its rewards.
War has turned on you- War was never your friend. It rages battles in your mind and wars in your heart. It confuses logic with passion and darkens your soul. It yearns for your blood and urges the blade to your throat- too late you realize you're the one holding the dagger. War is subtle that way- the discipline you once admired having taught it that.
Hell is as its always been- hot, blazing hot. You were too foolish to realize. At least once thing is consistent- Hell never changed. The heat you once put with your father is now consuming you alive. Who is to blame but yourself? Hell tried to warn you, yet you failed to listen. Hell roasts you in the convictions of your sins and the wrath of your wars; You can't escape, don't even try. There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide- you've already stepped inside. You're stuck in the burning abyss of anguish that you willingly stepped into.
Sin is War and War is Hell.
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Hateful He Who Wages War
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He Who Wages War's Player
Member ID #353107
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Brave - DM 4 Free Stuff!!
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10 Pregnant Lionesses
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It will cost 20 energy to attack this lion.
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