Most incarnations,

      Describe the harbinger's mistrals of hope as discredited faith amputees lingering after their own discord of clergy indoctrinated psalm vernacular symphony lost faithless causes behind traditional woes hidden under robes of derelict greed suffocating guardians.

      The accompaniment of a ten endless thousand tear vane drops amidst thunder fall into stratospheric view... As rain, Hiding the mythical entity trapped by a broken cross promise in forever, Beyond sandcastle universe's glass woven time, But our ever never lifted finger adage pays homage to a gaunt death of instinct, Our embed amoral white over black fairness algorithm has gone post rogue grey mortem!

In lieu of our participation in...  

The End