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The Black Angel

By
Companions of Death
Welcoming him as a friend
Knowing he seeks them
In the end
This covenant of life
Can not escape him
Who sits on the throne
Of gilded skulls
With a staff of diamond bone
And a blade of fiery blood
Culling those whose time has come
To face the judgment
Of above or below
The black winged angel
Seeks the souls
Not of those who wrong
Nor of those who right
Not hungry nor glutton
Nor rich nor poor
The slivery blackness
Seeks those who must come home
To Him who gave them life
And crafted them of mud
Now chooses to call them back
To see if they chose well
Doth it matter to the one who matters
What each soul did on Earth?
That they cater to the rich
Abandoned the poor
Floods of blood
And streams of tears
On a blue-white rock
Floating in nothing
Where souls sleep
Until roused by the Black Angel
To see what their eternity will bring





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