I am the dark angel, the end, the cold tears in your eyes.
I was there when pestilence and barbarity flooded into your snug homeland.
In droves, and laden with sins, you follow the call, the procession into the unknown, into the promised land.
For the wooden cross, for a heaven with God, you lifted your sword.
To erase the shadows from your tortured soul, you rammed your spear into the holy earth.
The angel of salvation seeks you, but I am not he who can forgive you.
To the thousands, I await you in the abyss, through the insanity of these dark times.