I asked an angel about her wings,
And if they brought her better things,
She said that nothing can get you higher,
But I decided instead on the devils fire,
And soared above her greatest dreams,
She thinks of nothing more than wings,
An existential parody,
Of mind and universal harmony,
I am so low that I may fall,
Off the cliff above it all.
Bring my soul back to terms,
With human existence of life and worms.
I'll skip my date with destiny,
And fall into tragic ecstasy.
I left the angel with her simple wings,
With nothing to do but wait and sing.
And I take the highest of the lowest roads,
Ending and beginning in soiled crimson folds.