The Winged Fist
The angel bleeds.
Her sapphire eyes burn with a love for all time thrown into the wind.
The angel bleeds.
A wound remembered, forgotten sympathies burning all around.
The dust of ages knocked from the shoulders, by a winged fist flying swiftly through the air.
Tearing skin from beneath the shattered fingernails.
A broken halo, a broken hand, a broken promise, a broken life.
The angel bleeds.
The rage becoming evident, no moral decision to let the problem pass.
Stretch the skeleton with hammered falling blows.
And knock the air from the lungs that breathed the breath you once thought was your own.
The time has come to rock.
The time has come to roll.
The time has come to fight.
It's time to take control.