The Finished Product of Death

To run and destroy world's gross intent
A town's through finishing people to exile
When last man's existence ends the backs weaken
The walking group gathers for a concerning ceremony
Eagerly awaiting strange men, standing in awe delight
A beautiful ceremony ends with aching hearts
Round, large men approach through deep woods
Into soft grass, moist bodies eagerly await finality
White wings and hands also whiten faces
To destroy a civilization and life itself dies
A to-do list transpires into beautiful weapons
Arriving and men watch acceptingly for death
Soundless through and empty men enter the chute
Clear hearts quietly seep into killers
Weeping and doomed people cut though angelic lives
Wandering through the ashes, men weep
Easy death awaits as roaring doom approaches

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