the withered husks of a lesson taught showed me synchronicity was the motionless key,
we waded through the sunless snow to find the demonic nest that has taken so many a kin,
clandestine destiny shrouded in not the blood of our enemies but that of our children,
we felt so righteous even when we knew that what we did was wrong,
tomorrow revealed its twisted face like the beast did the night before and I saw the hint of a god in its touch,
and even though I knew my journey was complete,
I knew my suffering was not over…
This was prompted by Fandango’s weekly prompt. You can find the fine fellow here!
The Twisted Roads To My Madness 
I’m going to check this out. I love writing prompts!
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An intriguing take on the image.
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I closed my eyes and tried to picture the movement, and how it would be defined if I was attempting to paint such a grand image. Whilst I may have sought something different with my words, I fear the snow when melted would show more horrendous things than my words ever could.
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