A Citizens Letter To The Council - The Obelisk, Portobello, Meeting Number CCLVII(BD)

When those parasites come, I will not be prepared with shaking wands, nor potions of banishing black, nor swords of spirit candor. I will not fight, when all that will be left for me is cities made into cemeteries. Understand me now, that in one year, when the moons make their voyage to meet once again- and that being the last voyage we will travel with them- I will sit dutifully and patiently in my home, on the sofa I have thoroughly loved, and I will let the balefuls who smog the air and crawl over our bones with despair- eat me whole and easily. I will not squirm, nor scream, nor ask for mercy of any sort. We have done enough of that these past six years. Understand me now, when death comes, its form a thousand crows, I will give myself to it. Have we been terribly wronged, or have we done terrible wrong? If our retribution is grief so great we flay ourselves with our own two hands, perhaps we are the ones who raped the land, bullied her children, and made ourselves flocks of death to whatever finds it way in our path. We are the hungry sort, aren't we? Are we any less hungry than the parasites?

Understand me now, do not fight it when it comes. It will be a pointless endeavor. It is far easier to die on your back than it is your feet.