March 3, 2026

Never have so many fallen

In such a short span,

Wings and arms clipped,

A flood let loose on the earth.

Such apostates hide their faith

In the fabric of the State,

Hovering among us, watching 

Over the patronage of their arts.

Azazel once taught weaponry,

Now Nephilim worship his invention.

Gadreel dabbled in the art of cosmetics,

Now his followers wallow in vanity.

These figures shaped by fire and hot air

Plummet right through us,

The extent of their corruption financed

By those they've fleeced in passing.

Falling Angels, with your proliferation

Of jingoistic pestilence,

We'd wait for you to hit rock bottom,

But we're already there.