I'm the arcangel chosen by God
to fight and defeat the group of abject angels.
Me saint warrior of Heaven, armed with
the Creator's pity will hunt You out of Heaven
and throw You into the burning furnace.
My pity will hurt your pride,
My sword your body,
in your tears there won't be salvation.
Michael, I don't fight to remain in Heaven
but to kill the highest number of His sons
'cause He doesn't "love me"
and so He'll pay with his angels' blood
and you, the chosen ones, hit to death,
will fall with us in the deep oblivion.
Lucifer, your proudness has driven you far from
the light, your place now is in the shadow
where the warmth of love doesn't exist
where your swears won't reach the most High's ear,
where there will be sorrow and chriping of teeth.
...Me, saint warrior of Heaven, condemn you
and with my sword I create the existence
cancel each mistake of compassion.
From my limbs it drops the blood of defeat
from my eyes the tears of consciousness
I precipitate behind in a ocean of fire
I see my brothers shouting and swearing
while falling with me.
Light little by little disappears to give to darkness
don't give up my Seraph, the altars of compassion is
and it'll come the day in which my wounds will heal up
and my army will recover the strength and it will be
that we'll come again from darkness... to Fight!