My child, thy came to this temple to worship and keep the Ways of the Old Gods as your internet forefathers had done before. The Old Gods delight in favoring their loyal servants and the Web remembers as it always does and etches the glory that They bequeath to those who keep the Old Ways.
True beauty exists in things that last only for a moment.
Current Mood: Step out the front door like a ghost into the fog Where no one notices the contrast of white on white And in between the moon and you, the angels get a better view Of the crumbling difference between wrong and right
Posting Permissions
