The Fairy Tale

In the reign of terror the desperate calls
of the angels whose voices were shattered
All of hell through the blatant cries did fall
Killing the innocent who never mattered

When in fact, the lovers who soon shall die
But once, they faced the choice to live
Became the modest, most meager cry
Of the little child with no more motive

And when hell collapsed, and heaven, too
Where once an angelic voice did sing
Now lasting nothing but the heavy quietude
Without hearing glory's ring

When laughter broke and love hence, crashed
The standstill of life rebounding
He tried to save her, but, alas
She died, with no voice sounding

The air of anger and luminous hate
Overtook the world in a field of dust
Where once ruled He in the words of the Great
Flames caused the searing of a growing lust

Damned to suffer in purgatory
a child held to her heart tight
The same, sad, desperate fairy tale story
A princess, a pixie in illuminating light

Doomed to burn in flames of despair
The ruler of the High and Mighty
Sent up the final warning flare
To save the damned of deity

Cursed be that which brought this affliction
A tragedy in its own
being the bearer of a false illusion
That not everything is doomed

Child, cling to your pathetic book
Of intricate, mind-consuming lies
For soon you shall take another look
And see the world's demise.