The Harvest

The angel descends on the earth
And in a harrowing surge the sealed ascend
Into the dissonant sky, and we remain, the wretched unsealed
Decaying deep within this swirling ocean of human misery and disgust

In our mortal despondency we are left to rot
In a continuous cycle of violence and suffering we dwell
Until the subsequent angel of Heaven infiltrates the macabre empyrean
As a chthonian darkness pierces the horizon
The misanthropic genocide of our hateful race
We are cast into the bleak seas of damnation
Our tainted blood flows for miles in a mercurial deluge
Laying waste to a once picturesque landscape
An exquisite work of art that now lies in ruins
Corrupted by the defiled blood of the wretched unsealed
We are held responsible for all that we've done
The blood of mankinds ruin is on our hands