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A recorded reading of “The Darlings of Despair”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Only the darlings beheadings belight, casting shadows on a moonless night. The gross manifestation of hatred’s face, their holy doctrine, a twisted embrace. They brandish their beliefs like swords, developing their religion, preaching discord. The faithful few, waving their wands, casting illusions, singing false songs. In the name of the righteous, they condemn and slay, believing their darkness will lead the way. With blood-stained hands and hollow hearts, they tear our world and call it art. The darlings of despair, they call the shots, a symphony of malice tied in knots. Their wands are wands of deception and might, turning day into an eternal night. But behind their smiles, their hatred leaks, corrupting the land, tainting the meek. A gross malformation of love’s design, turning the sacred into a sinister sign. What faith is this, that tears apart? What devotion thrives on a hateful heart? Waving wands to justify their plight, they sever the truth and extinguish the light. For only the darlings who hide behind lies can watch the world burn and never ask why. Their faith a mask, their wands a curse— a twisted religion, an endless hearse.
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