Reign Of The Reawakened Wyrm

Atop a pile of corpses, below the beating sun. Each reaching for the oh so forbidden heavens. Faces in pain, forever the same. Screams, everlasting, eternal on marble. The worshiped, impaled by the scorning hand of a demigod. Never to reach godhood. The bleeding body, rivers of crimson death. A wyrm, shunned by life. Eyes staring defiantly towards the light, determined to make a change. A soul, sacrificed for personal gain. Floating, reaching out. Together, could they make a change? The left eye bleeds for sight, a boon, a gift. With such a power, there might just be a chance.