So, he falls, his wings have broke,
No longer able, to beat or stroke,
The archangel falls, with fluttering sounds,
Down under, the war, waiting for him are the hounds,
They quickly run, where he shall fall,
To tear his flesh, and hungrily devour it all,
Their masters, have, made them, twisted them such,
For them, to like the holy flesh, as much....
As Gabriel falls from the battle above,
His sighs, spring flowers, and his tears become doves,
But as his half metal wings, flutter broken and charred,
His feathers, come away like shinny little shards......
His kind, is for battle, and his meaning is the holy war,
His flesh was serving the eternal glory, the one and only Lord,
And as he falls, his wings become, long inscribed swords,
The blades have writing, His holy sacred words...
And as he crashes, on the blood-filled ground,
A dampened, thump, rises up, as the only sound.
This place where he fell, desecrated by demon kind....
Has now become Gabriel's grave, that his wings have outlined.
The swords, are now sticking out the soil,
Between them, has grown a tree, that cries blood like oil.
And as the hounds come, running with haste,
Not knowing their appetites will go to waste,
Because this land, has now become sacred,
By his blood it has been cleansed, of the hatred.
That his fallen brother, bore from the begging of time,
When this dark leader, the beautiful one, committed his crime.
The hounds try to enter, however they cannot,
The area is blessed, and the ground underneath, can now never rot.
So now, in the second war, his end has come,
But part of his soul, a new born child, has become.
This child, will bear the will of the race, he is part,
But know, the strength, of angels, and His love in his heart.
The boy will one day, come, wandering here,
To take the blades, and be reborn, to vanquish, worlds fear....