Broken Wings
Drifting endlessly... In the infinite sky.
Reminiscent of the hell where mortals are stranded...
Bones aching and liquefying under the pressure.
Where confidence is flattened by the reality...
As crimson irises stare at the white cloaked figure before him.
Blond hairs reaching up towards a paling sky.
Lance in one hand as that sadist smile paints his lips.
Pure wings of a saint outstretched and ready to move.
It all threatens to come crashing down around him.
Capturing the angel of darkness is a flash as he goes to her.
Silver hair standing up on end about his head like a crown.
His bloody scythe hanging down from the sky.
Charcoal wings of the raven spread wide behind,
Waiting for his strike at the saint impersonator before him.
Sapphire orbs watching woefully waiting for it to end.
Her white gown fluttering below as she prayed.
Praying for a resolution to a long and endless battle.
Her hands are clasped coldly, face frozen in pain.
The look of horror precedes all thought or rationality.
To fling 'him' into the depths, that would be the only comfort.
For all others threaten to wither away, to the darkness with the Orden.
If only these broken wings could soar across the ocean.
So that maybe for a moment... the world would be safe.