When the angels fall,

And all seems lost,

When the demons win,

Then comes the frost.

When the cold seems fixed,

And the sun is gone,

When the demons rule,

And the fright goes on.

When the hope is found,

And the match is struck,

Then comes the light,

To be found in the ruck.

Then comes the schism,

Bravely fought,

For the demons have run,

And the carnage is naught.

Feel free to ask questions, comment, or critique! I take all criticism into account.