My halo is forged of iron waste,
My eyes burn hot as embers haste,
My smile is turned ugly and tride,
My tongue feels bitter and cramped with pride,

My heart shoves cold blood through my veins,
Bitten by the frost of Hell,
My wings are made from bones of lost children,
Stitched together by the mothers that dwell,

My stomach is filled with acid so sweet,
My legs march, so graceful they fleet,
My feet char the ground, it crumbles,
My skin melts into it, to cease its grumbles,

My soul warps through the vacuum of pain,
I'm at his command, I'm centered, heartless,
My cold, blistered scythe ready, it has taken millions,
I stand with you, a true friend; the angel of darkness.