Trump's Spiritual Advisors are Vultures, and Yes, We Should be Concerned
Under a heavy sky, they circle—their black wings slicing the air in slow, silent anticipation. The vultures descend, talons stretched, to settle upon the rotting remains of faith laid bare in the dust. Their beaks are sharp and unforgiving, tearing into the sinews of souls too numb to resist, gnawing on the dried marrow of hope once held sacred.
Their f…