by jaywcoombes

Fire and ash choked his vision, sweat fell from his face in rivers, and the rising smoke ate away at his lungs. The drums of war beat with rhythmic reverberating resonance, stoking the flames of his anger and hatred. Blood flowed as a river around him, feet sinking deep into the red-stained earth. A bestial scream, as primal as the first caves and kindling fires, tore itself from his throat. His brothers and sisters in arms rose up, standing shoulder to shoulder, taking up the cry. Hearts danced to the call of the drums, and minds long oppressed saw a road of possibility leading to freedom. 

Tyrannical rule shall on this day die. The chains will be broken, the weight lifted, and out of the fires a new age will dawn.