Imitating Angels

Light through the thick trees

Wine on my tongue in the dark

On my hands red, bloody red

Washing away sweat with bitterness

Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus

Neon signs flicker, flicker

Vacant rooms here

His arms outstretched like wings

Holding firm the falling sky

Sanctus, sanctus, sanctus

To his knees he yields

Coiling into itself, around itself, infinite

The bindings of suffering slip away

In the night you see them piled

And we are still

Caeli et terra

Bloody wine and falling sky

Pleni sunt gloria tua