You have all been born crying
to a high and narrow Virgin road...
I will tell you a story
of a man who saw the face of God...
Bow down in lonely guilt
beneath this gaping cross...
I will slide down high thermals
to where the deep sky caress's the blue...
Take one long and final step
though the pages of a holy book...
An Angel weeps
beneath a wall of clay...
On Vellum pages are words
hewn by blood stained quills...
On a shattered line of crosses
We piled our hatred high...
We are ever eager to disown the rage
of the beast lodged deep within our souls...
A child was told the stories of God
and listened with rising wonder...
I will traverse the path that some may walk
Here in this place balanced...
Through a long Moonless Night
those whose mind turns...