The stars are all angels
above human guilt
great beasts of the stark bittersweet

Blood roses dangle
from tombstones they’ve built
staining red every alley and street

The sour wind howls
rusty pipes drip
a city bereft of its hope

My sovereigns prowl
a surface that slips
down an unchanging frostbitten slope

The warships of old
are dead in the sky
once verdant and prosperous havens

Now hardened and cold
their entrails float by
carrion left for the ravens

How the sigils do shine
as proof of my ire
exhaling the light they have caught

And strung across vines
between hollowed-out spires
the last of the living things rot

But the star angels gaze
unwavering will
at the stillness that smothers the world

Grinning at the haze
an oily spill
the banner of filth I unfurled

The grave mounds span miles
on the edge of the city
a tribute to the faith of the free

I stare up at the piles
undeserving of pity
for I know that the reaper was me

Once I believed
in flowers and feasts
once I was the nurturing force

But I was deceived
by chivalrous beasts
who bent back on me my remorse

And down here I stand
a fear-tattered mind
screaming at this meteor shower

With a scythe in my hand
and a yearning to find
another place I can devour