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Poetic intro to a story about a land without women. |
| There is a land where every boy is a man, where every girl is gone and every mother has gone with her. The fields are filled with ice and snow, food is hunted daily and cooked over open flame. Every man is a brother and every back is slapped, every bed is filled with one every lap is empty. Every glass is filled with Brew or whiskey every hand with callouses un-kissed Stories are told of past monsters and storms but no battles are sought or found no glory is lavished no man is vain. Life is peaceful the only deaths are animal. The men are covered with un-mended furs their faces are unshaven their meals are hearty but un-sweet their hearts are full but unloved. Love is the greatest fear. It is known as the great tormentor, the battle bringer, the heart breaker. Love is a solid wicked thing. It breeds jealousy, rivalry, hatred. It is an emotion lost to the ages It is romance, and Rome is long since gone. |