Tired.

Monsters And Men

The black birds stopped singing, now they only scream. Circling the skies for the dead. And even their skies are no longer blue but dark shades of grey with tears of soft white. Nothing here lasts long. Nothing here stays the same.

Do you know what separates monsters from men child?

You see monsters don't know any better... Killing is all they know. It's what they were born to do. It runs rampant in their blood. But men, they were born with something even more tragic. They were born conscious of their killing. And in the end what may seem harsh. Is but a mercy to you. Because it keeps you alive. It keeps you breathing a little longer.

Because you too were born a monster.

That was her gift, mother nature. She filled you with the whispers you didn't know were there. And this rifle in your hand.

It's a quality of the gods...
To see a creature with it's back broken and be unmoved. The devil is an optimist if he thinks he can make us worse than we already are.

- I see humans but no humanity. // ~ hail.