A Short Story: Mr. In White

The man, in white, comes upon a plain and looks upon a confused and destitute people. Slaves under leaderless men. 
He smiled, comfortable in his place, in his skin, and with his mind. He watched the country's governments in chaos and people and land ruined. Destroyed, by leaderless men under a common flag. 
And one day, in his limitless opportunity upon the world's most dominant country's yield and neglect; the wind pushed blood through the air like drizzle, while he, the man in white, stood pleased that his valiant and conqueror's flag soars over taken land and people. 
And on this conquered and desolate place, he set his throne and he set the fate. With iron piercing eyes, wings of glory, and vanity in white, he stood upon his towering throne.
Then further more lands were taken by the extremists, the greedy, the thieves and deceivers. And he, with boundless strategies and might, the man in white stepped forth and took, whilst returning nation's men to dust.
And so, after many days, many months, a year or two, his strategies having taken, his machines having ripped through flesh, his flag soared over many countries in which he set a towering throne and the fate of a people. 

He smiles, comfortable in his place, in his skin, with his mind, ruling over all of them, with iron eyes, in vaingloriousness, while controlling all countries with vast and limitless resources, in white, on his towering thrones.


~ from the ideal of the Conqueror on a White Horse via the Holy Bible ~ Thanks for reading @toninorthern on Twitter