There Are No Angels Here

 

Scraping around the vipers nest,

flaming swords and thrusting spear,

black spiders scuttle to the feast

but there are no angels here.

 

The dragon crawls into their veins,

hallucinogenic ecstasy or fear.

The demon bares his fangs to bite

and still there are no angels here.

 

The first-born rounded up and caged,

harvesting the mothers tear,

the innocents are slaughtered.

Yes, there are no angels here.

 

No Seraphim, no Nephilim,

no Archangel seen far or near -

God’s army keep their powder dry.

There are no avenging angels here.

 

The dead will rise in Babylon,

false prophets will snipe and sneer,

the doubters branded heretics.

There are no longer angels here.

 

Tangled up in their own strings

the puppets and the puppeteer.

God is dead and Satan lives

because there are no angels here.

 

The fool sits in the house of white,

Apocalyptic portents appear.

Despite claiming the hand of God

there were never any angels here.