They Are Wrong

[MineeMyTortelini]

The following poem would be found tapped to buildings and public spaces, seemingly inspired by other parchments.


They say,
That our days are gone,
That we fight a hopeless fight,
And that our Gods are a thing of the past

They say,
That we are inferior,
That our beliefs make us weak

They are wrong,
For our beliefs make us unique,
Make us who we are
And our faith, in whatever God or Gods we might pray too,
In whatever friends we have,
Keeps us strong.

They don't get that,
They don't understand that
They only see logic,
And not the threads that bind us all together
That keeps us from waving surrender


To every brave person out there,
Supply runner or fighter,
Whether your contributions are small or great,
Keep fighting,
Keep hope


Victory will come,
Then they will understand,
That they are wrong

(IC responses welcome and encouraged!)

 

[cosmoons]

The young Baroq gripped the parchment in his hands, scanning over the words greedily, "Exquisite beauty penned on a simple parchment. Delightfully elementary in its design. Victory will come indeed"

 

[BeetrootSalad]

A bloodied, tired hand drags itself from the rubble, imprinting a crimson stain across the parchment as it rose to cling upon the wall.

Green, empty eyes drifted across the document of chance. They read, and understood, and flit up again.

And they blistered with light.