It was like a sign. I walked outside and like a que from a director it begins to rain, a desperate attempt to wash the pain from my body. Purity falling from the heavens above and touching my skin. The anger and resentment mixing with the water and becoming acid, burning away the ground beneath me. Just another example of my essence destroying something good. And my wings wrap around me to keep me warm. My weapons unfazed by the destruction. Figures. This destroyer able to keep destryoing. Walking through life in all of its beautiful moments, being the outcast nobody wants to acknowledge, but secretly glad is there. But this war isn't about attrition, its about preserverance. This Angel without a god Soldiers on.