Wormhole Wave Quake Generator Plasma Artillery Cannon
Civilization type
Mercenary
A sharp pressure in my mouth
Wave quake generator
Plasma artillery
Perpetual state of suffering
Longing for return
But I stand in the middle of the forgotten
The taste of aluminum
Lingers in my mouth
I cannot breathe
I struggle to be
I feel the tip of the needle
As it runs down my tongue
It grazes the side
A pinch
Prior to injection
But there is nothing left of me
Their world will always be pretentious
And I've still yet to see
If there anything left for us