The darkness that descends to crush my mind when dwelling on the end of white mankind is worse than any shadow entertained when my own death is foremost in my brain. What care have I for my decaying corpse? The same as water for the wood it warps. Inevitable death I can accept, but races are immortal if well-kept.
Romantic and Pragmatist
The darkness that descends to crush my mind when dwelling on the end of white mankind is worse than any shadow entertained when my own death is foremost in my brain. What care have I for my decaying corpse? The same as water for the wood it warps. Inevitable death I can accept, but races are immortal if well-kept.