The Scarecrow's BaneMature

Cities leveled and bodies burnt.

Rain pelted down to the earth, turning all the sand to mud and glass to dust. Blood, crimson under the midnight sun, flowed into grim of the gutter. Sewer rats bathing in the filth as they sip on this rare treat. A dark wind picked up and bringing with it a swarm of crows. Dark crows, tainted with blood, flew over the dark skyscrapers. Some still hot with the coals and heated flames. Dark smoke swelling from the ashes being reborn in the sky. Every window smashed, this is the place where the solders been. Not a single soul in the dust of a fallen city. 30 millions people lived here, now it’s a ghost town. Every soul taken by the dark of night and smashed like dust. Just like the crimson tainted sands. All the diamonds in the world would make no difference. All are just like the broken glass, fallen shining dimly in the dark. All the dead, pecked and wrecked, eaten by the darkness. Left to bake in the sun, drifting towards the blaze. Just like yesterdays headlines drifting and floating towards the blaze.


In a matter of moments millions could die. Like the fource of sunset, crows stormed the sky and seagulls the oceans. Pecking the skin of the dead. Bullets riddled the sides of corpses and buildings. The vile stench of hot led ageist the scorching the wood planks boarding off the hopeful business man. They screamed, `Here they come! Here they come!` Death is never enough and some things never get better like used cars and bad livers. They asked there 'God' for forgiveness but when that failed they traded Him in for a better looking brand. A much hotter brand with all the spice and juicy fruits in the world.


The End

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