The sky blazed with angel ashes,

Dusting the scorched earth

Like black powder snow.

Ashes the scent of a celestial sweetness,

The taste of divine nectar,

Once reserved for the holy enclave of Elysium.

Ashes that rang with anguish

Of the hosts of elysian soldiers,

Damned by the foolhardy crusades of men

Who, in their reckless desire

To witness what lied after death,

Had slit the tenuous tissue of life,

Piercing the prison of the impenitent

And calling upon a cataclysm.

Ashes of the valkyries

Who valiantly threw themselves

Into the ranks of the infernal infantry

That ran rampant,

Freed from penitentiaries of umpteen torment

Manifested from mortal sins.

Ashes from the fallen,

Beaten,

Butchered,

Burned,

In fires meant only to torment

The souls of the damned.

Ashes that burned

With an unabating abhorrence

Of man’s megalomania,

Condemning the pure to persecution.

Ashes that dusted

The scorched earth

Like black powder snow.