Kneel before them

Hold out your palms

As the blade brushes over your wrists

The liquid of mere life itself

The crimson that keeps humans going

An offering

What this calls for

Whispers out from their mouths

The wind carries that message

To find you

To let you know

The old gods are always listening

They are all around you

But it comes at a price

So continue on and give them what they ask for

So that you may get what you want in return

Answers

Results

Incite to life’s questions