A time shall come when a saviour shall be sought
as chaos and destruction danced above earth surface,
haunting nightmares devouring innocent dreams of mortals,
peace and harmony seeking refuge in memories,
as blood became the favourite wine of mother earth.
The air shall be rendered with musical wails of suffering,
children clinging to parents in utter terror,
as the world spun, dexterously towards demolishment,
and hellish beasts were set loose
to grace the feast of mortals flesh.
Then the walls shall close in on us
and the bridge of crossing,
hazardously swayed to the turbulent winds,
the veil between the worlds would be destroyed,
as the uncanny birth of humanity’s end crept closer.
But the gentle pulsing of an ethereal light,
shining elegantly with a warm glamour
as shadows shall struggle, helplessly and hopelessly to enshroud it,
and wandering souls shall find a path admidst the gloom toward it.
The saviour sought shall descend,
riding upon a white steed of lightning,
bearing in his hands the salvation of men;
a gleaming sword that would defend mortals
against the evil that plagues their heart.
