The shadows dance across your face, permeate every crevasse. The fine lines across your
forehead, the delicate crows' feet, all bathed in the absence of light. Now they'll
never really leave.
You can imagine it. The screams, the cries, the loneliness, the despair. You can hear their every cry, even if it's only in your mind.
Don't pretend to ignore them. Crimes are crimes, orders or not. And really, isn't justice the only thing that will silence them?
The screams.
The tribunal is forming. The coucil will rule.
And the lion will pay for the blood of the lamb.
You can imagine it. The screams, the cries, the loneliness, the despair. You can hear their every cry, even if it's only in your mind.
Don't pretend to ignore them. Crimes are crimes, orders or not. And really, isn't justice the only thing that will silence them?
The screams.
The tribunal is forming. The coucil will rule.
And the lion will pay for the blood of the lamb.
