Longing (A poem of Arturo Kusanagi)

The wind whispers sorrow. The Master weeps. My knife slips, unable to find the feast. How long, broken world? How long, wounded stars? How long will man strike man, and despise his sister’s hope? The weak cry out alone. Who shall hear? -Arturo Kusanagi, 2400 (Go to the PRELUDE for Firedrake Redeemed) (Go to the INDEX …

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