When Angels Lay Dead in Heaven

Someday
Perhaps
When angels lay dead in Heaven
And the forest beasts grant us our daily bread--

And
With that
All civilization thinks less of their brethren--
Much less, in fact--than garments made of thread

And
Where sat
The King of Kings--once heavy-hearted--
Is nothing more than illusion running round in our heads

Then
We will negotiate
Who does and who doesn't have Power--

But not yet

Reviews

[Marie]

Perhaps we will negotiate then.

[None]

Nice! I love the angst and stark sarcasm in this piece. It's tame and poised, but sharp and vicious as well. Very well done. The probably improbability of it all is so lashing. Great write.