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by Portal Author IconMail Icon
Rated: E · Poetry · Gothic · #967620
Hail the Caesar
Hail Caesar


Visits from ghosts of old, yelling their stories with muted mouths. Horse drawn madness and bitter eyes, we scream for the living to be dead.
Hail Caesar.


Caught up by the crowd we throw our fists into the air. Chaos is under more thumbs than we know. Black gold flowing from the viens of dead men that line streets, being soaked up to feed the fat children.
Hail Caesar.


Placing armor upon my chest to stay the arrows that will be loosed to me and to those like me. Swords sharpened to slay my enemy and I will strike quickly and vengefully.
Hail Caesar.


Knocking false kings from their thrones with hard fists, I look to find more. We smell the flint, steel, and blood. New Rome is safe for another day.
Hail Caesar.


I am but an empty suit of armor, my life is but a side story. Empire is now our concern. Choosing those that we see fit to destroy while allowing others to be slave owners and murders of the popular children.
Hail Caesar.


Let none stand in our way, and let few temp my blade for it is swift to react. Do not allow the fields to birth forth bread. Do not allow the rivers to flow. Submit to us, and you will be set free.
All Hail the Mighty Caesar.


America Victor!
HAIL CAESAR!
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