End of the world.

Burnt smouldering wings on an angels back,
Her fall from grace oh so sinister,
and those tears have stained her face,
She is a poised atop a throne made of roses.

An angel will rarely stay beautiful and pure.
Werent we all innocent in the beginning?
We grow darker day after day,
Slowly being claimed by the worlds decay.

Our minds become broken and twisted,
The wings tainted a crimson red.
And we begin to bleed and rust,
The smiling faces fade into the dust.

Our world is breaking down here can you tell?
Everythings turning into red and the siren is sounding.
And the tortured screams of the damned rise high.
Havent we been awaiting this?

We deserve this as humans.
We are selfish and cruel.
We all deserve to die.
When the red skies come.