by Jackson Ferrell
My fingers press strings to frets, sliding from position to position, and the guitar grinds like I’m strumming a chainsaw. The earth rumbles with the hum of the final chord, and the gargantuan steel-and-stone giant rises from sleep, its eyes burning orange.
This time around, the demons don’t stand a chance in hell.
Sunday, December 6, 2009
Power Metal
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