Army of Angels

April 16, 2018

A heartfelt apology, lay my knees bent to him before me.

Tall, holy, and wise.

Wasted time, puzzled mine, was all of this worth the glory?

Connection of minds, examined back in time, light fades becoming gory.

Vision rots, weary thoughts, to assuage... I can not.

He’s burning, I’m worried, he’s red, am I dead?

Horns from the floor, different dimensions, reality hangs in suspension.

Heartfelt bravado, the loving holy followed and begone the darkened henchman.

Heart rate, headache, many breaths to intake. Alive I am, breathing, speaking, no longer am I mentally bleeding.

The author's comments:

Thank you Chomsky.


Similar Articles

JOIN THE DISCUSSION

This article has 0 comments.



Parkland Book