ANGELS

A voice in the dark,
Like an angel left with no wings.
She is better than most,
But she is less than the Godless things.

Angles fly on broken;
Broken flight on broken wings of wax
Fly too close;
Far too close to the sun between smoke stacks.

The wings will melt;
And angels will fall like rain.
Dashed to pieces;
On the rocks that bear our names.

Bloody shards on black;
Black rock as dark as night and twice as hard
Falling through us;
Forever gone, we’ll never know quite how far.