THE MARCH OF THE ELECT
THE MARCH OF THE ELECT A pink veil drifts; the fir trees bow as pearl globes wink and blue capes trail. Stars bead sun hair; buds flow from lips rapt faces spark gems; hands clasp to pray for cities of ice where acid rots men. Lead spikes stab faith; hate lobs her boils rocks groan in pangs; the... Sign in to see full entry.