Bells ringing, birds singing, a cry in the morning gloom
A lost row, that's turned foul, it raging on in the dawning sun
Crimson dew, waking you, it's reflected in the first light sky
Angels fly, up on high, but the devil is here on earth
It's a fear of the dawn that brings you to life
It's a fear of the dawn that puts you to death
Slow down as you hail to your Father
Slow down as you pray to your Mother
Your dawn is only the beginning
Your dawn is a reason for living
Darkness hiding, time biding, the crack of dawn has opened wide
A pointless fight, who is dark or light? Sunrise a pointless hope
Heavens are red, and you said, that blood was spilled this night
YOU ARE READING
Soft Curses of Angels - Volume 1 - A Fistful of Dust
PoesíaThe earliest part of my chronological anthology of bad poetry. Estimated age at time of writing 12-16. I both thank and apologise to any soul who takes the time to read these.
