An angel, born of purest light,
With wings of grace and feathers bright,
Once sang a song of holy praise,
Through endless, consecrated days.
But in that heart, a shadow grew,
twisted thought, a deed untrue.
A whispered lie, a selfish plea,
That shattered all eternity.
They watched a soul, in mortal pain,
And chose to let its tears fall, rain.
Denied a hand, a gentle touch,
And took away what meant so much.
Now heaven's halls no longer ring
With the sweet song they used to sing.
For in their form, a darkness lies,
Reflected in their hollow eyes.
So let the fire, fierce and high,
Consume the beauty, let it die.
Let ash and ember be their fate,
A final end to their dark state.
