Inside these dark
|
shadows of man I grip
|
the hand of gloom.
|
Only my thoughts
|
release the smiles and
|
days of sunlit dreams,
|
for in truth, the hours
|
of morn are as bleak
|
as the last.
|
Now I fear the touch
|
of a child due to the
|
actions of our past.
|
Angels of mercy weep
|
no more because the
|
future is foretold in
|
our creator's eyes.
|
We angels of deception
|
may bleed our last drop
|
and bow to the
|
responsibility for
|
centuries of lies.
|
We greet the new dawn
|
with only a passion to hate,
|
but these flowers are not
|
soon to forget the promises
|
that were captured through
|
their fathers' ill-fated eyes.
|
Sweet and compassionate child,
|
may you find it in your
|
fractured heart to hold back
|
judgment. Your judgment of fire,
|
and your blessings of death.
|
Our age should dwindle in
|
fear and rest with no hope,
|
because these angels
|
descend upon us on
|
clouds of vengeance.
|
My nightmares become life
|
and fire becomes my skin.
|
We can only accept this
|
fate and bathe in the sweet
|
waters that we've cursed
|
with our sins.
|
So many promises of life
|
blooming into beauty now
|
lay foul from our
|
intercourse of disease.
|
Only the tears of angels
|
will reveal our sorrow,
|
but they are blind to the
|
compassion and deaf to our cries.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Giving (And They Came With Fire...)
|
| Endthisday |
