Grass under dew

Fallen angels fall and towards the most
High their guardian angels call - you don't
Need. You don't need food - You Don't need
Water - You need hope like the dollop of sour
Upon the clocks weakening hour which allows
the new to reign in - these energy loops - who
can maintain - to uphold the thin - veils to the
floor, a research into strengthening faith even
more - and subtle callings which are all aligned
by cabala's strong word - there is a dying one
salt - a red fashioned alert - a tool worn from trade
my almighty's revoke - until it said - christ- and I
Knew Hit it's heart thrice, and the eternal parent called
If they cannot do it, I shall look after you, a smile, grass
under dew, suffice.

Christopher Baird 2012 ©