Water pours from the skies
Cleansing the earth instead of me
As all the angels begin to cry
For my impurity
Forgotten problem child
My whispers in the breeze
Turbulent broken life
I need YOU here. Please.

Condensation on the window
A hand print, so young, profound!
The noise of doubt crescendos
The hand glides down to meet the ground
There are no shadows in the night
Only figures to be known but unseen
Reaching out for the imminent light
As Angels tears fall and try to clean