The Skies

The Skies

The skies wailed as the angels died.
The sun too weak to rise, the moon too weak to go.
Everything was in constant darkness,
and the universe mourned every day.
The world felt as if it were torn to pieces,
and the demons of the universe
tormented every being,
because the angels were
g o n e.

The world was in chaos,
and there was nothing
anyone could do to fix it.
Sometimes, bandaids
can’t fix certain scars.
Just like that,
nothing would fix the universe
ever again.

Everyone hoped
for even a sliver of light,
some sort of sign to show them
that good still existed.
That life was worth living.
But there was nothing.
All hope perished
and darkness pursued to
all the corners of the world.