An Angel weeps
beneath a wall of clay
as the cold light of stars
gleams on slick cobbles
Cries of lost hope rising
spinning words and faces to the Moon
I hear the murmers of Souls
a forlorn and final lamentation
whispering down a bitter wind
We have travelled down to cold seas
where a sickle Moon
hangs across the Bay
Walking here on this coast
morning glows through a pale mist
A cold flame piercing
hangs souls on a pitted wall
and a tiny fragile flame flickers
to light the dark voyage to eternity
Where is the burnished hope
once held on banners high
Now futility holds the sway
and will it be you
who drags these last bleating lambs
to a cold and bloody slaughter
The taste of blood in a fetid breeze
and a saint in a dungeon dark
feels the touch of a Tyrant's cold breath
This sweep of discordant stars
A chaos of bleeding fire
caught and held by the sea
On the shifting sands the Angel stands
Wings held to the wind
and a cold dark sadness rises
to see the happiness of the few
wrought from the misery of many
This Angel's tears reflect the fire
And the dead will sleep
under the eye of the dark Reaper
These grains of Sunlit stardust
Motes caught in the beam of creation
await the wild winds of history
Held now beyond our gleaning
here on this forsaken shore
until an Archangel's Horn
Sounds out eternity's Last Post
