Texty: The Acacia Strain. Angry Mob Justice.

Beautiful day
You would hardly notice all the disease
And we are all to become desperate, as desperation is grounds for remorse
And suddenly everything else bows down in comparison
When the blast wave hit
The impact burned paint from the walls onto their skin
Inadvertently mixing new hues of green and blue
That would never be seen again
Human ash fell like snow as winter began around the world
Clouds covered every inch of the earth as the survivors came out of whatever holes they found
And then the sun ceased its shine
Radiation coupled with toxic fumes strangled whatever was left alive
And now the real horror begins
This is when they begin to think