Angels the Waste

They descend from the heavens with a deafening roar/silent as shadows, beings of light and shadow/pure darkness/twisted energy. Their wings, vast and feathered/made of razor-sharp blades/composed of swirling mist, beat against the sky/through dimensions/in defiance of reality itself. They are not gods, but something far more terrifying/ancient entities/expressions of pure chaos, instruments wielded by forces benevolent and malevolent/beyond comprehension/that crave only power. Their touch brings salvation to some/is a curse upon all life/leaves nothing but echoes of what once was. The Angels of Destruction leave a trail of rubble and ash/a whisper of madness in their wake/the world forever changed, a stark reminder that even in the darkest depths/amidst the stars' eternal light/when hope seems strongest there are those Neon Genesis Evangelion who would bring an end to all things/harmony through chaos/ruin upon the world.

A Dirge of Despair

The music began as a whisper, a mournful wail, echoing the aching emptiness within my heart. Each note was laced with sorrow, weaving a tapestry of ravishing desolation. It was a symphony composed of tears, a testament to the cruel nature of human suffering.

  • Every sound source seemed to carry its own story of broken dreams.
  • The violins sang in a chorus of anguish, while the cymbals crashed like the rhythm of grief.
  • I was swept away

The music swelled, a torrent of soul-shattering grief that left me speechless.

Beneath the Weight of Humanity

The planet groans beneath their immense pressure. We, people strive to create a world of pleasure, yet every step leaves its scar upon the fragile structure of life. From our technologies, we seek to master the powers around us, but often forget the delicate balance that maintains peace.

  • Possibly a new path to tread, one where respect guides our choices.
  • In the end, the fate of humanity rests in its control. Will we opt to be a force for good or a blight upon the world?

The Soul's Cry

Deep inside every being lies a wellspring of feeling. It can be gentle, a mere ripple on the surface. Yet, at times, this wellspring explodes into an unbridled torrent. This is when the soul's cry emerges, a powerful testament to yearning that cannot be ignored. It can manifest as song, as rage, or as a profound stillness.

  • The soul's cry is a whisper to be heard.
  • Listen closely, for it holds the key to our deepest needs.
  • Embrace the soul's cry, for it is a burden that can guide us toward growth.

Venture into the Labyrinth of Madness

The air hums with an unsettling melody as you descend into the labyrinth. Twisted corridors wind before you, their surfaces coated in a unnatural slime. Shadows writhe at the edges of your vision, and every rustle of leaves echoes like a maniacallaugh. A chilling void hangs in the air, punctuated only by the distant cries of unseen beings. This is no ordinary labyrinth; this is a hallucination woven from the threads of madness itself.

Decade-Long Trauma

The effects of trauma can be horrifying, especially when endured over a extended period. A decade is an epoch in life, during which a person undergoes immense transformation. However, when this journey is shadowed by trauma, the wounds can run deep, leaving behind permanent scars on the mind, body, and soul.

The indications of decade-long trauma are often nuanced. Individuals may struggle with post-traumatic stress disorder, as well as trouble forming bonds. They may also experience physical ailments, a testament to the body's unyielding response to prolonged trauma.

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