Death Rides On Angel Wings

Inconquerable thoughts are weapons in the night.
Armoured mirrors and reflections of steel
Will steal her soul away.
The wicked and the damned
Ride in on horse-drawn carriages
Upon the evening of an existance
That is left frozen and cold.
The towering horizon will not melt.

A strange beauty surrounds
The familiar sounds
Of twisting tongues,
Wrapped around a day's embrace
And the full moon that follows.

Through the ages
Fate was served on a silver plate,
Soaked in blood
That spilled from drawn lines in the sand.
The night sky continues burning.
The night sky continues churning.
The night sky continues learning.
The night sky burns out.
A candle flickers.
A match is lit.
A spark flies.
And then you die.

The glass shatters.
Drapes fall.
The curtain rises.
The stars collide.

Shadowing the sun,
Breathing in the wind,
Unforgotten by those who live
Beneath the essence of the meadows.
As her lips speak only of wrath
And a kingdom of fear,
Praying that we might burn like fire
And hear the roars and screams;
For Death rides on angel wings.