I Hear the Hoofbeats of the Rain

Just a poem I wrote while listening to the rain outside.

I hear the hoofbeats of the rain upon the roof above.
They sound the charge of seraphim with armor like the sun.
The thunder sounds the clash of steel, and blades of flaming light
Carve through the ranks of demon thrall to split the somber night.
The rumble of their battle cries with trumpets now resounds.
The mighty march of golden feet stirs dust of angry clouds.
The din of combat charges air with static of their strikes.
The triumphal cry of Adonai sends tremors through the night.
With whirling wind, the heavens thrash to drive the chariots on.
Their ichor bleeds through firmament to fall in crystal drops.
How ghoulishly we quaff this draft to sate a greedy thirst
And trample over fields where saints lie buried in the earth.
What know we of the battles high, what know we of the pain
That shed the blood and sweat of heaven to give us joyous rain?