in the last beats of your putrid heart
you breathe fire
there is no heaven for you
with blood on your hands
and flames in your footprints
you may have the face of a god
and a crown of gold
but the constellations in your veins don't line up quite right
and there are cracks forming in your porcelain figure
you are a fragment of broken skies shattered by my touch
no one can fix you
not even an angel
not even god
may they bless your infernal soul
touched by death and famine
