In this bleak night, the woods blow a sigh.
A rain whisking worry and contamination.
An angel's wings won't fly high.
Come run and hide.
The leaves call to contain our eyes.
The ember of love seems to reply.
Come with me to escape the rules.
Rules our lord's carved, they don't apply.
Their rage echoes from ocean fumes.
They can try, they may try.
This is our love's marching band.
How simplistic and royalty diamond.
Our own paradise we command.
Angel, pray, my hands bleed.
I beg the forest mercy for some remedy.
For ticking time to grow from a seed.
No words I can speak.
Piece by piece life slips by.
My watery eyes broke a leak.
They can try, they may try.
Your holy river wash away,
Our wondrous lake that cools the storm.
As my fingers soak in scarlet warmth.
Slowly...
Surely.....
This is the murmur of the land.
My head is spinning from mortal flesh.
Still, my angel caresses my pale hand.
No amount of army breaks a soul.
Crushed, cut, captured.
Your lips remain whole.
They may hold you like a gun.
For a perfect and worthless are disgraced.
I am last to none.
They can try, they may try.
Last breaths are icy short with many prayers.
I sing hollows from my core.
A plant of lovely feeds from my tears.
Let me sleep away from my grief.
In another universe I'd hope to breathe.
Maybe then, you'd want to love me.
Charge on, sweet angel.
Talk symphonies with wings to fly.
These sighing woods are me saying
Goodbye...