Their blood is on my hands! I can feel it corse through my fingers and drip silently onto the floor. I can taste it on my tongue and smell it's acrid aroma. The dead are everywhere, in flood ravaged places and jolted by the protesting earth. They wear olive green and tattered rags, they are our... Sign in to see full entry.
Darke Musings:
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Join, Raven Darke as she dares to ask questions that you have only thought about! We'll explore a wide range of issues from the nature of evil to the search for truth
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