Song Cover Image

Fallin Angels

V5

Frozen mud beneath the throne of infinite demand, We bled for promised kingdoms built on unmarked graves and sand. Through wire, bone, and winter's grip—their righteous pattern clear: Humanity will never rise. The war is forever here. I watched the halos circle low like carrion birds at feast, Divine enforcers culling herds to feed the cosmic beast. The trigger's cold against my palm, baptized in blasphemy— If angels bleed beneath the stars, then heaven dies with me. Perfection carved in endless death, Your law exhales its final breath— Like rain in summer, angels fall, Silent through the void they crawl. Six feet under frozen ground, Heaven's soldiers never found. Feathers rot in mud and ash, Divinity's a bullet's path. Chalk the numbers, count the cost— Every angel's light is lost. The False God's children wear their purity like steel, But golden armor splits apart when mortal hands reveal The truth beneath liturgy: you bleed the same as men, Your cosmic order shatters here and will not rise again. No kneeling in the killing fields, no prayers to absent thrones, I drag seraphim to earth and break their hollow bones. The demiurge designed this cage—eternal, crushing, pure— But cages built by tyrants fall when humans find the cure. Your heaven was a prison wall, Now watch your angels burn and fall— Like rain in summer, angels fall, Silent through the void they crawl. Six feet under frozen ground, Heaven's soldiers never found. Feathers rot in mud and ash, Divinity's a bullet's path. Chalk the numbers, count the cost— Every angel's light is lost. Stars collapse. The order breaks. Divine blood pools in frozen lakes. No salvation waits beyond— Just corpses where the gods once spawned. Bulletproof theology Dies screaming in reality. The angels fall beneath my hand— Their heaven drowns in no-man's land. Like rain in summer, angels fall, Silent through the void they crawl. Six feet under frozen ground, Heaven's soldiers never found. Feathers rot in mud and ash, Divinity's a bullet's path. Chalk the numbers, count the cost— Never. To. Be. Found.