God-Mode!

Bombs being dropped from Planes

When the skies drip down,

and the terror of darkness plagues the innocence,

When The water drips from the chimneys,

fresh burnt with charcoal smell,

and sips of burnt phosphors,

When the monsters of destruction,

march the roads of hell,

Bloodshed on the innocent streets.

The Garden of Edens on Fire,

burning the broken sheds of humanity,

When satan comes out to the surface,

things happen, bad things, souls leave their bodies,

birds fly far west, skies rumble, the silent

streets get filled with murmurs,

the murmurs of the heroes who are no more.

Flowers lay spread on graveyards nonexistent,

foul smell, foul play, and the bleakness of hope start fading.

That's when a human ascends to God-Mode!