Many fear of a certain song;
a song of peace, but also many other things:
Hate,
Anger,
Torture,
And Indifference.
The melody vibrates off of every gun and knife on the battlefield, every shining metal buried in the ruined soil.
Everything we worked for is left motionless under a thick song, poisonous to the mind. In the end, out of thousands of poor souls, only few remain.
But though the last note was strung...
I hear the orchestra, repeating in my mind like a broken vinyl.
Why, you may ask?
Because i have already heard the Song Of Corruption before.
YOU ARE READING
Drabble Collection
RandomA book for the small drabbles i write every once and awhile. Might end up being a large collection, might not. - Don't expect high quality. I barely write outside of writing assignments, and this is just a little project to refresh my writing...
