And angels they were from above
gnarling their pestilence
their arms and fists clenched for battle
the roaring flames enguldf a thousand storms
and the winds of gods they do not fear
they have come for me
an unspeakable heathen horde
death be at their backs but judgement be their will
gods never sayeth of tommorow
nor do they battle with no honour
i guess this is now
silence.
to purge.
my deepened sorrow
all the while to kill thyself
though i lay before the cross
i sweep my sword across them
with eyes of night and heart unstilled
I will die no more.