silverwing117

The night was silent,
The corrupt and unjust at home.
The heart is violent,
What was once red, now stone.
A flash on the horizon,
White and burning hot.
Scorching the sky, reaching up to the heavens,
Racing toward me was my fate, how ironic.
Earth was brittle,
Dim red left in the sky.
Fading little by little,
The snow burnt my eyes.
The night is silent,
The corrupt and unjust forever at home.