Apocalypse Now

Four horsemen hale deep in darkness their knives and swords tear open red flesh the city filled with smoke while skeletons dangle from open doorways. Some are burned in fires rising while some drowned in the turbulent sea. A sweet cellist sits and plays alone among the black and gray smoke singing in the dust. A young Angel's wings catch fire and dead men with quiet guns, face down in earthen graves. Men like rust and set in dust with bloody teeth streaming down their hungry face. No guns no warriors left only black haunted houses with gray broken gates. The skies are adrift with smoke. Planets blow apart and seize only fire. It is over, it is the end.