Abaddon

Derelict deeds of some fairly lit fiends.
Obscene obscure dreams which are seldom seen.
Church bells of the worst hells.
Police sirens, babies dying.
Freely firing false flags to fall flat.
Keenly conspiring clause tax to call rats.
One way gun play from monday to sunday.
The shunned lay a stunned way which not a word can one say.
A rising rebel despising the devil.
Flying metal conspiring to deshevel.
A crying kettle flying to an aspiring level.
In a place of pure panic, a face allured satanic.
A race in which no one has planned it.