This Is Not A Song

His feet slide across the ground
This assassin makes not a sound
The skies arise around him
His rival's fate seems all too grim

This is his final destination
He shall consume what he has begun
This is the final destination
It seems the divine have now fallen

In this, the last hour
We shall arise
His unhallowed power
Knows no compromise

Lightning strikes, a fatal blow
Illuminates the skies the below
An asylum, a halo
Can it reshape the skies of woe

He will not stop until he is best
I have struggled to fight for less