#091 New Age

Daunting churches drag themselves forward across the apocalyptic wasteland in search of sinners. Their hollow chests dig into the sand, shedding foul flesh against unforgiving ground.

May the countless souls that whistle through their empty aisles find a semblance of peace in the whisking desert winds. The bodies and bones of these tortured lambs -stretched thin into spindly spires- will not find any.

Arches creak and moan, making hopeless prayers to false gods, with the swaying of the ship. These places of worship are hungry -oh so hungry- as they push themselves forward at the dawn of a new age.