From an eternity away,
she heard his desperate plea,
for her to come to him,
and with an angels speed.

She shot up from the ground,
and her master only sighed,
for the one that she was after,
was surely going to die.

Steel as hot as dragons breath,
had pierced his ragged flesh.
There was no place for him to hide,
as this war was young and fresh.

He watched his brothers falling,
as his demons gathered round.
Their battle axes bloody,
their breath the only sound.

"We're not through yet," he coldly promised,
"this war still wages on,
for I'm a faithful soldier,
and I refuse to be your pawn."

Once more he heard the trumpets sound,
as reinforcements came in sight.
There stood his sacred angel,
that he had called to flight.

She healed his wound with just a touch,
and the soldier sheethed his blade.
Under the Kings protection,
they both sat there and prayed.

His demons knew they couldn't win,
for their master was a liar.
His twisted tongue had doomed them all,
to an eternal lake of fire.

He turned to face the angel
who had listened to his cries
and he said, "I'm gonna make it."
as tears filled up his eyes.

The addict sat upon his knees,
his body weak from craving Meth,
knowing everyday's a battle field,
when you're holding hands with death.