The white of their wings Burns in splendid blaze. The angels of the shepherd Burning in the storm. Their skin is equal to The ashes of the holy book. Innocent flesh Burnt by sin. Their blood so pure and tender Satisfies my gloomy hunger. My blasphemy shatters your faith. Nothing lucid thrives all colours are dead. The dissembling love of your barren master Is uneffective. It rebounds like reflected By a darkened mirror. I celebrate your fall and I am drinking your blood. Your untouched beauty dissolved by my hate. Where is your saviour? Where is your god? I pass the gory goblet Among the angelcrowd. And I force them To drink the blood of their god.
angelcrowd, uneffective, dissembling, rebound, goblet