War Of Sons Of Darkness

War Of Sons Of Darkness
by Robert Paul Gass (aka Imagines Vinco aka Ultionem Vinco)
The wind of God without the forms and void
Descends to waters black of rippled space
And angles four to spread abyss devoid
Of life as Chaos spears Helios' race.
The wings to rustle bane of form destroyed
Beneath the whitened wool of angel's pace
To hammer nails to cross deformed deployed
In harvest fields of purple struck with mace.
The demons one and eight to hear the call
Of trumpet taking arms in battle's light
And Tzoah listens hearing cries of all
The goddess never forgives them appall
Of using brother's pain for godly might
As David threw the tortured down with Saul.