The Wake of the Angel

And as you enter the forest of my sleep
Drawing aside the bushes of glimmering light
You will remember the prayer of Orion
Drifted in me, you are alone
The hour approaches and the Moon, dim as clay
Pours a sea of tears into our swollen eyes
Kill the dying in my soul, my love
For Death once dead bears no more dying then
And you’ll be dead to strike the dead
I have written your name so often
On the chiselled vault
But my writing hands are the roots of my misery
Now everything stands still in the wake of the Angel…