He expanded too fast and too far. He built the bridges to move in, but disregarded the walls to protect what heart he had. He took his strides with confidence believing they would never betray him.
They hit first at his lines of supply, the throat of his machine. They silenced him quickly and halted his advance before he could truly relay his message, his pleas. They lunged in deep to halt his production. They surrounded his forward force and scattered his most effective tools with mere fingers. Then they plunged in with a thousand knives, digging for his soul, but only managed to cut the air from his lungs.
In the end he couldn't even manage to yell for them to yield, the hands of the love of his life.
His message lied dormant in his eyes as he looked up at her. As She said nothing and walked away, the message died with the first tear. He fell to the floor an amorphous pile, not worthy of the title of man.
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