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the scars from the ancient war with no men
left on the face of the ones who had fought
are the scars from the claws of sin,
as it begins to sting from the memory,
they think back to their heavenly God.
faded deep scars all over their bodies
hidden by what shows on their face
standing there in the lines to battle
no one knows how they could get hurt,
all they know is they did get hurt
living in the shadow of the batallion,
are the ones who let it exist,
though they stand as one person
others see them as a single machine
the scars left on the face
of the angels, is from
the ancient war with no men
when that war is over,
count yourself lucky
they stood up and fought.
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