The Angel at the Pillar

They twist and turn as they burn
Wash their hands in the ashes of you
To keep my path free from sin
Feed the mighty worm within
As the worms fail so shall your paradise
I’ll send them down, the angels of agony
When your hands are too sore
To save you from everything you care for
It’s like a seed inside that never blossoms
The smell of success, a sulfur caress
Rusty nails cut through my pores
Washed out ideals like slippery eels
A snake crawls up to strike you down