Cold-hearted angels playing with snakes
by the soft languid margin
of a river of tears and blood.
a dark cloud of crows whispered across the jealous sky
and there was no more a child to be seen.
bewildered the angels fell
and melted into liquid gold...
Can you see what I see?
Can you feel what I feel?
It’s obvious is in it?
No sanctification was possible
and the futile waste of time
scorched the veil of my crisp imagination
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