But the Burning Bible Bleeds

Wicked thunder shakes
Hold on to your soul and your blessed mistakes
Kneel as you drown, soon light shall be found
In the trench you will be forgiven by sorry and sound
As lightening stabs the shield
Miracles are not reviled
The waking storms last attempt
Leaves no mercy refusing to lent

But the burning Bible bleeds
Finding falling faults for fasting feeds
Warriors wishing what was wasted wasn't war
Survivors stranded sliced and sore

Shallow winds give lasting hope
Hands of flesh clenching tighter than rope
The eyes can see much further than the sun
We have won
We have won
We have won