dear lord save the angels
for the saint needs to bleed
these crusted wings of barren faith
held upon a crumbling stick
with weathered shrouds of withered hope
to hide this face of shame
back bent with unseen burden
scrape your feet upon these rocks
bloodied footsteps
paths taken
frought with hope
to be mistaken
lust for dreams
a chance for hope
barren now with dusted tears
drink of my blood to quench your fears
partake my flesh to ease your soul
pray again
you feel it grow
till once again
you feel whole