3 a.m.

28

And the angels cry, they have plucked your wings to shout over you as a sign of vengeance, to revive your fearsome.
And do not forget that you have stolen their aura with which you have broken souls and bodies, just to slay their sins on their throats and to laught at their helplessness. Now you're down and yell after me but I'm not going to run to your open arms and bitter lips, I will not look at your eyes that chase an escape, you're a restless sin, a silent noise and a pain that burns.