domingo, 24 de junho de 2007


Fly away, little dragon, to the place that you belong. Fly over the ocean, with the wind in your face, making you cry. Say that you want to stay, even knowing that the war is coming, the times of happiness and freedom are dyeing and the place that you belong is not here. You belong to that special place that you like to call home, the land of the free and brave, the speakers of truth. Never regarding the past on your back, the problems that you left behind but that are still heavy in your shoulders, don't look back in sorrow, don't cry for help for there is no salvation to the doom in my land. The past is now memories of your childhood.
Tell yourself, in your mind, that the land is blue and green, that is vast and awaiting for you to discover it, to take it as your own, to be a part of you. Never mind the void that you feel inside and that is taking over your soul, from head to the end of your tail. Kick out the bad things of you mind, get rid of those thoughts of vengeance and hate and let the sun shine upon your scales, making them glow more that the sun reflection in the water. Wash away the tears to know that you've moved on to the place that you belong.
In times of war and death, when hunger kills and people go insane, I know my place, I know my fate, I know I'm different, stronger, the leader of all of this. I'm the reason of all the fights, all the sadness and happiness, tears of sadness or joy. Life or eternal suffer, whatever is to come, I know that my future as realized all the pranks, all the jokes and twists that it could and now there is nothing more to wait, nothing more to hope that a day where you'll know where to belong is soon and alive. I sit and wait the coming of my executioner, the taker of immortal souls to the ground of Valhalla. Because I'm destined to be the god of gods, the mad man that controls all and lives of the souls taken by him. Your time is soon to come.

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