The ForsakenLooking up I see your blackened wings Rubber smooth and veinous I smell the stench of your skin Your talons strong Ripping my flesh As you beat The obedient winds Michael, why have you forsaken me? Blood drips from my heels Spraying the scorched earth below Like tiny crimson bombs Splattered in the last campaign Michael, why have you forsaken me? I hear your shriek Loud like the battle cry Of a thousand marching armies High and piercing So swift Like a sword ringing its sheath Being pulled to hand Before the death blow Michael, why have you forsaken me? |