And The Wind Never Ceases To Blow

A fine dusting of heaven falls like dew upon us

Lacing our tears with bits of ruby brilliance

Anointing our lies with the blood of broken angels

Basking in the afterglow of the luster they once held

As the sun fails to rise they turn to dust

And as the ashes begin to settle an image of god is borne from the silken particles

Just as it was the first time and will be time and time again

A gust scatters the crimson powder and skews the divine image

As it was drawn from nothing, the image is erased

Only to be created again by generations to come

So the cycle perpetuates

Another sin, another savior, another massacre of angels

The heavens do fall

The dust does roll

And the wind never ceases to blow

Dedicated to Nick, for lighting the path at the darkest of times- Jolly Birthmas!