Before the first explosion of sunrise,
we thirsted.
Hundreds of bones
waiting together.
I thought I saw Jesus
taunting us with his blood and wine.

I thought I saw an Angel.
I did
but he was Fallen.

He tore through his halo
And away from the son
he stood tall and breathed the clean
unholy air.
He reached through the ribs of the sword
and stopped earth's ever-beating heart.

The Fallen and I
balance on our bony knees in front of the candlelit alter.
Our candlelit souls
always lead us back to the Cathedral.
We both shed our skins
one of us burns up like the torches
on the moist stone wall.

And one of us remains
to wait for the first explosion of sunrise.