When the black eyed angel folds it’s wings
Around me, I would tear them,
Root and stem
Unmanned, and in my divine rage
Dash it’s ugly skull into the concrete
It is not an action fuelled by violence
In the palace of my skull
Wanders an animal
And it knows not love nor hate
But survival
And it is that,
A compulsion that blesses
The places where the world wounds me
It screams it’s hate into my face
But I remain inviolate,
I have work to do,
And armoured in that
I face the legions that follow it,
Bleak envoys that tied me to darkened rooms
Silenced me but I have many allies,
Beautiful, brave, bold and quick
Set against
These monstrous shadows that claim so many
Dumb pawns invigorating them with the phrase
‘Pull yourself together’
But I have triumphed before
I carry it’s memories in my veins
And I will win again.
Wash the blood off my hands
With the sweetest love
I’ve ever known
Wow. A triumph over the inner demon is the best win of them all. That was incredible, Matt. Truly an amazing piece.
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thank you, it was one that I enjoyed writing and the reaction was worth the effort.
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