The Credo of the Wasteland III
"Yet another note was found in the wasteland:
'The flames had risen, born of the machine's own roar. As the distance between the world and beauty grew greater, the flames grew in distance, too.
Man was haunted, as the demons came forth from the flames and cursed and licked all who came before them.
The empire of man was gone. All that was left was the turmoil and hell before them.
Freedom was wrought from the hands of man, and the indolent flicker of the people's candle gave out to the flame.
What could live amongst this furnace of a world? The dying corpse sought not but asylum from the fires.
Even the worn out souls of men did not want to suffer and perish this way.
The furnace churned, and spread. The furnace churned, and spread. There was nothing left but the agonizing burning of machines.
Only one will wilt this flame. The hands of nature itself.
May you read this before this burns, too.
-From the wasteland'"
Short Stories