Our Lady of Paris

There exists nothing that is real except that which has since past. For the present is but fleeting, the next breath becoming last. The future but a fantasy whose mold has yet been cast.

Tragic is this time as we witness history decay, befallen our progenitors, masons from whom our foundation lay. Culture rots as weakened men fail to seize the day.

And then! That spire which danced with angels, glorious to behold, Sentinel of the centuries as eons did unfold. Burning, falling, crashing down, priceless treasures, worth untold.

Symbolic is this moment. Learn from it we must! They’ve trampled on our heritage, turned mortar into dust! A spear into the soul of every Christian man is thrust.

Crumble not into oblivion this which our fathers built. Do not succumb to the falsities of ethnocentric guilt. Rebuild, retake, renew the glory, honor the blood that has been spilt.

Civilization is yours to defend, and defend it you must. A duty that which your fathers to you they did entrust.

Dixie Anon

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