Unnamed 1:
He flies on broken wings,
The azure world shines bright and blue,
He flies in the shadow of angels wings
Struggling on splintered moral askew.
We weigh him down with devil's wings,
And cast him into fire and flame,
When with the azure world he's ring'd
And no monster is there to tame.
And now he falls with Crimson wings,
His own blood heavy and red,
His ragged wound and broken limbs,
Weigh him down, down to join the dead.
Now he flies on Devils wings, blackened with despair,
We tore his soul into dark, dank shreds
And banished him to the demons lair.
Unnamed 2:
He flies on wings as black as coal,
Hideous and evil to common men,
We take the wings as white as snow,
Angels of heaven are we to them.
He leads us into hell,
He sends us into fire,
His true notions but none can tell,
So we wail and cry and throw him into the mire.
He watches on with eagles eyes,
Blue as the azure world above,
We watch him with hate and a silent warcry,
As black as a demon and white as a dove.
Now those wings are red, and red,
As we are the heinous murderers,
And he is gone, and dead,
We still think him the torturer.
That crest that lay upon our breast,
An Angels wing with a devils shadow,
He sacrificed his peace of mind and rest,
So we might soar on broad white wings,
Whilst he is stuck with those of a crow.
