Piece of parchment...
Down in a wishing well...
Covered in soot, dirt and grime...
It was still readable...
When all of the water went dry. 

Four words...
Written in blood...
She screamed in mortal agony...
Crying tears...
The second flood...
Unbelievers beware...
The prophet on the street calls out...
We take our final bow...
Check the print...
The story checks out.

Acidic rain...
Moon crimson pours forth vial poison...
In the air...
Shadows crawl out from the cracks of existence...
Sharp teeth feed on unknown meat...
A baby cries...
This is the event they've been warning us about our whole
lives. 
A natural murmer is heard about the crowds...
Why in God's name didn't we listen?

All of this...
She sees in minds eye...
She drops the piece of parchment on the ground below...
Someone is saying something to her...
She pay them no attention...
A horror within her is beginning to grow...
Four words...
Mark the end of time...
Tortured bodies...
Victims that have gone past the reapers scythe...
Glittering eyes of malevolence...
And a mountain of skulls...
Just four tiny words...


The Morning Star Falls. 

DNB