The Name of This Star

When the first trumpet sounds, I am proud. The world I am building will be a good one. My people will be happy, and if that is objectionable to the men of faith, then I am doing something right. They are hidebound hypocrites. Heaven rains down the destruction they have wrought.

When the second trumpet sounds, I am confident. The damage is severe, but I have not set this tragedy into motion. I am a leader in these trying times, and while these events test my resolve, I do not buckle under the pressure.

When the third trumpet sounds, I am resolute. We purify the water, watching carefully for unsafe standards and negligence. I will not see us destroyed by human pettiness.

When the fourth trumpet sounds, I am adaptable. Without light, the world is a place of danger and constant threat. Yet we have our own lighting. We have had for centuries. I prepare.

When the fifth trumpet sounds, I am agonized. The cruelty of others is a sting painful enough, but now I face the creatures of nature? We guard against the swarms as they overtake us, and we protect our lungs from the choking smoke.

When the sixth trumpet sounds, I am grieving. So many perish to the hellish demons that rise from the East. Their eyes and their wings are countless, and I have no time to count them. I am too busy burying the dead.

When the seventh trumpet sounds, I am devastated. My kingdom is not my kingdom. My world is not my world. My life is not my life.

Prompt: Music Prompt #10

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