show of hands

morning a bleak
clouds rolling by in between skies
darkened by the youth
of an angel depth and prow
to which would visit in now
a visual dream i could see
moving froward back and thence three
o'clock were is the angel this eve
for if i know the devil
the devil is free still lurking
a smocking at me
did he find my angel
angels hair deed blonde of seed
or will dreams be blood a of twine and misery
twist not my youth in thought
for windows of pain and grass
to the garden at last
to hear chimes in the wind
reaching hands in heaven i see
on my knees i pray within
angel cry's not for me
angels die not for me
angels try not for me
necian creed
for i will sacrifice my soul
now angels fly
whilst thou toll

devil in me