Exceptional potlatch abstraction 110 words Clouds of arrows, floods of gore by LIJ Red

The ebb and flow of human pain is like a storm without the rain as pagan gods through clouds will ride and life and peace be thus denied. Beware the priestly one who boasts his God to be the Lord of Hosts whose hammer thunders in the sky who raves "The infidel must die!" The ancient fearful gods of war green fields of plenty all abhor an armored warrior is their form their charger is a raging storm. He has no chance, the peaceful man but run and hide and watch and plan. A wind from Hell itself will roar when hate and greed give birth to war. Recognized

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