The ash clouds cry tears of blood,
upon the land swollen with fear.
Trees bend their knees,
to the coming of reapers,
disguised as angels to save us,
from our own living hell,
as the purge rolls on.

Together, we have started this fire.
Burning the whole world to ash.
This place is set for ruination.
Striking the match,
as you set the world aflame.
Watch it as it burns away.

This is a premonition,
of a crisis apparition,
but I don't hurt badly enough to die.

Not yet.