These fallen angels
these beings of lesser wisdom
grab and grasp for something akin to true and honest desire
meandering from righteousness to pick apart all those that threaten their disease, their amored decay
a demonic symphony
a choir of hatred
sounds out their intentions
and the senseless en masse draw nearer the chaos
the aware fight the urge and drown out the cacophany of degeneration
the zombified crowds that the unpious have conjured fall gracelessly into the false happiness
left to grab and grasp for something truly satisfying as the harbingers of their doom before them
left to rot they stumble on clueless of their true plight