Riddle XXI

Spin the battle

     Fighting an unending lonely seemingly blameless lonely inevitable outcome war, Against the origin beyond dust we cannot see, Invisible is the long breath of our drift falling reality's appearance is shattering gravity, All this desperately grasped at tangible is departing just as the elastics of belief  are inevitably praise the dying of all deadly followed blindly psalms dying, Staining pungently our every-single-monopoly-believed-in-thing with the presence only the Devil now adores...!

In lieu of,
Attempting to joust,
Against angels,
Or... demons?