On the broken wings of an Angel
The darkness comes, dusk falls heavily,
trees silhouetted and outlined against a silvery moon;
From the heavens, a ball of flames fall,
and hitting the ground, light is diminished.

On the broken wings of an Angel,
the weight of crimes press down;
Tattered, torn, battered, worn,
weeping figure of fallen glory.

Chains of self-inflicted judgement,
binding ankle to ankle, and wing to wing;
Fiery flame of eyes and sword,
put out, dead, fire to ashes.

Poised at the edge of a cliff,
screaming to the tumultuous sea;
Wings outstretched, straining against bonds,
cutting into flesh, into wounded seraphic wings.