The Seraph falls, and her purity dies.
The heavens are tainted in her crimson lust, and the planets are deprived of her brilliant light. The madness within corrupts the once pillar of poise, and the monument to peace is shattered to the point of undetectibility.
Through the chaos and pandemonium the Brink of Insanity cradles her as her wings are torn asunder.
Is it psychotic nature or sadistic pleasure bringing this sardonic hero to her knees?
She falls from grace, cutting through the darkness; suffocating the unquenchable fire.
Her pain amplified by the Black Flame burning into her soul; tearing into her very core.
She burns into nothingness, and as her very spark is extinguished; she passes.
Her tale is one written in blood and told of deceit.
Her splendor and radiance eclipsed only by her one fatal mistake.
She fell in love.