Day became night and the night became a blur. Throughout the commotion not a single inner demon could stir. Yet no matter how exquisitely planned, time always ran out. Dragging any temporary solace into an all around rout.
A great stench proceeds the coming of the mile long disgusting vanguard. When onlookers from many far off places sense it, they instinctively know the future will be hard. Yet for the indigenous population it is a joke in which they are not the fool. So they point, laugh and mock only memorializing the fact they are obtuse as well as cruel.
Fantastic tales procreate nonstop filling invisible airwaves. From space, the seas and even as far back as the caves. Much like their targeted fan bases, they come and they go. Can one exist without the other, chances are nobody will ever know.