An Angel's Death
A season built to withstand time
An open field, archaic shrine
Amidst the roses of springtime bloom
An angel lays there, in distant noon

Her strength is gone, her wings clipped off
her tears gush forth like rapids far
down her face, so pure and soft
On the floor, a dying star

Vomiting a putrid green
a horrid, morbid, ailing scream
a gown of white, her beauty lay
she trembles now in solemn fray

A fragile frame for all to see
the ancient pillars of memory
which stand there now, the ruins of
a glorious empire of truth and love

Their power stretched from sea to sea
gleaming towers of silver's shine
wealth and hopes, a people free
unfathomable power, their eyes turned blind

Through the sky, new heights they sought
immortal still, or so they thought
their magic they had used in haste
a world they left in barren waste

So she's there, the last of kind
a beauty still, her skin so pale
A silver dagger, a tortured mind
her life she takes, she does not fail

Do not forsake the precious gift
the treasured truth within our midst
for when you do, remember well
the story that the ruins tell