Endless Creation Forever

 I have lived in many houses and had many rooms but none have felt like home.  I wonder this world trying to find my final destination.  I’m always on the go, temporary stopping at places that try and fill a void but cannot replace something I have never felt. What is home?  Is it where family lays down to rest after an endless day of slave like labour?  Is it where you bury your dreams for traditional values?  Or is it something I’ll never obtain?  I’ll just be lost, wondering the world in search of something so unattainable. 

Who knew a creative mind could be so destructive?  With one hand he looks to align the forces god's greater good  But with the other he looks to destroy it all with one fell swoop In one eye, he sees the good in all of his creations and the healthy impact it will have upon it's target  But in the other, he lusts for the burning and slaughter of his impact, creating misery and pain for those around him.  What caused this original and innovative person to become so hateful and so repugnant? A world destined to end so soon, why not be the one to end it all tonight? 

My thoughts are acting venomous once again  Poisoning my mind, they speak of lies and unhealthy emotions.  They plague me but I’m fighting back with truths and evidence to fight the venom.  I won’t let this poison kill me.  I will be the last one standing

All around are familiar faces, worn out faces, faces that are black and blue, faces that are drowsy, wearied and lost of all hope.  We had been ambushed by Brynmawr. Those dishonourable, ungodly barbarians! They hiked their way to us when it was dark. The slave owner has called for our eatery to be destroyed as he no longer cares or wants us.  They attacked from all sides of the eatery, giving us no place to hide, no place to prepare for a potential skirmish. They murdered the trolls at the front of the eatery with heavy lancea spears. The trolls went down with a thud that shook the eatery. They slaughtered all the hierarchy slaves, one by one with Katar daggers. The Warden tried his best to flee the bombardment but was caught by a giant mountain troll and propelled into a cell on the back of waggon.  The bombardment lasted hours. The eatery was cracked and collapsed after the barbarians destroyed the eatery's infrastructure. Many slaves had been crushed.  ...

I am a sla ve in the world’s most popular eatery.    I distribute trough worthy nourishment to Orcs, Goblins and other hideous creatures of the repulsive and foul stench that we call the eatery but in the slave tongue it is sometimes mentioned as hell.     At times I am pleasantly surprised by creatures of another kind. The kind you would not see in this part of the land. The kind that understand how it feels to be a slave. I call these people escapees. They have freedom, they have liberty and they have found the one thing I and many of my fellow slaves contemplate about. The key to freedom, the key to the shackles around our feet, the braces around our necks, the helmets on our heads, the week and heavy amour around our bodies and so much more.    I have dreamt about this freedom for as long as I can remember. Being free, being able to escape the clutches of the slave owner.    We never see our owner, he only appears when it’s time to collect...