|Entrance/Thy Crypt of Tales/Silver Fables/Thy/Aways|
Flew the mass driver.
Destruction raised upon such a piece of rock.
Then with the flick of a switch,
Bolts flew, thunder raised.
Crackling the upper atmosphere.
Cold, brisk waves.
Flowed upon wave...After wave...After wave.
The man gained comfort in the peace of his chair.
Meanwhile behind him boasted a rebel flag.
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