DesecrateThe world is a thread. Someone, somewhere in the exosphere a hundred thousand miles away from anywhere we'll ever stand is wearing a stopwatch, containing every fibre, every sinew that holds every body together, every human, every woven tapestry generations have sought to improve.Desecrate by birdsonqs
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What if the wearer watched someone rip apart the wings and chrysalis of a butterfly? Someone pour oil into an ocean of glitteringf fish? Smog over london and car exhausts coughing up carbon monoxide into the nostrils of newborns, stained dark on the insides?
Maybe they'd pull apart every tapestry in a fit of rage when they see nuclear clouds unfolding in the distant west or the last hawk's call in the south. They'd leave us forgetting thirty years of what we worked for, or swing the hands of their stopwatch and knock every one of our feet off the face of the choking Earth, send us into places stars only hallucinate of. Someone, somewhere, will cut that final thread.