Ghostdog

Every teardrop of frustration, every bead of sweat from the brow forms a rivulet that becomes a stream then a river, and triutaries join it and it becomes a raging torrent that will sweep away with irresistable force any obstacle that stands in it's way.

The scene is set. It's just like a lull before the storm. Like even the silence that decends before a major batle ensues. There will be a new order established soon.

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