Peninsula

This where we hung the wise men, this is where my wings once grew.

I clasped my hands to speak to those who begat this holy land and they told me our scriptures were the ramblings of a misguided archangel
So we went to war with the tidal waves and our army were stripped of their armour

If the clouds should part we throw our tridents at the sun
we cock our throwing arms.

We shot down the seraphim in defence of what we believed in
We watched our city walls fold like the tidal wave as we escaped, as we transcribe

Shoot down the seraphim, harvest their skulls to protect you from the winter's sun; the wrath of god, the blight of Icarus'
Shoot down the seraphim, harvest there wings to ascend to the hight caste

The broken vow had become a virtue, paving the way.