His fallow beasts in prayer go humble

Angelic beasts are men of prayer.
Anguish a devils saboteur’s snare.
His bounteous fiery pits full of sorrow,
Toilsome battalions, wilfully, follow,
As forsaken wretches we labour, on;
Sadly, just singing hymns that we’ve dreamed, upon.

Cogent, servitude, under chaos rule
Hypocrisy’s inapprehensible, dual.
Torment; epiphanies, servitude!
All truths; satanically, eschewed,
By the devils implemented deceptions...
Prayer keeps each his own perceptions.

Balanced by Lucifer’s equal
Son Damien whispers death in sequels.
Creatures infantile we follow the herd,
Corruption and murder is spurred,
We in the juices of flesh and blood hunger
For the eternal life ever younger!

Beast are we as men and as angels, drawn;
From all the parables on this earth; we spawn.
Who amongst us isn’t daily, roughly, tested?
Who hasn’t once been errantly, attested?
Lead us the way to god so naught can stumble
His fallow beasts in prayer go humble.