Brahma
If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Far or forgot to me is near;
Shadow and sunlight are the same;
The vanish'd gods to me appear;
And one to me are shame and fame.
They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.
The strong gods pine for my abode,
And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou, meek lover of the good!
Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.
Ralph Waldo Emerson
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Rick Grimes 2020. Because this isn't a democracy anymore.
Things don't get better because you want them to.
All things serve the Beam.
Destroy your reputation. Be notorious.
Always up for a Walking Dead RP. PM me for my plots or toss me yours; nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Buying art of my OC.
Things don't get better because you want them to.
All things serve the Beam.
Destroy your reputation. Be notorious.
Always up for a Walking Dead RP. PM me for my plots or toss me yours; nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Buying art of my OC.