I SAW A DESCENDING PROCESSION
OF GOLDEN ANGELS TOWARDS THE EARTH
THROUGH THE BRIGHT AIR IN SILENCE


THEY FALL DOWN ATTACKED BY THE FACTORIES SMOKE
BETWEEN THE RAILS AND TRAINS
IN THE YARD OF AN OLD STEELWORKS


TEARS FOR THEM I HAVE IN MY EYES
I INTOXICATE MYSELF WITH SUFFERING
WHEN THE CHIMNEY MERGES INTO THE SKY
THROUGH THE SMOKE


HAVEN’T ALL THE ANGEL PERISHED AFTER THEIR FALL?
ONE IS WAITING FOR ME, HIDDEN
WITH FEAR HE IS LOOKING THROUGH THE PILLARS


HE IS STEPPING BACK TO THE DARKNESS OF THE HALL
AMONG THE DESOLATE EQUIPMENT
ENLIGHTED WITH THE FLAME OF REVELATION