He heard the murmur of angels, as the shot entered his head, from predestination, from the order we all dread, and what with all our questions of why, we enter dead, perhaps the murmur of angels, is all that need be said. A thousand boots they echo on a dark forest floor, with swords and certain weapons, a reason for war. A question of the ages what’s worth dying for, a life in some short cycle, and then breath, breathes no more. A diamond or a woman, a dollar or a crown, some die throwing proverbs, some succumb without a sound, yet the murmur of angels lays constant in four by two. In parsec by league circumference, someday they speak to you. The dead or the living, they know which to choose, for the righteous of a calling, they sing and murmur too.
A baby with a tumor, a man without a clue, a body filled with heroin, just surviving to buzz on through. A ghost he stands on winter grounds frozen beyond blue, in envy of all he sees the angels flying through. A claim they come from upper worlds, in truth its lower too. Eschatological words of time, cannot stop them when they fly, falling spinning, just to dive, to enter worlds they most despise, just to sing a murmured song to you. Summon ye of innocence, claim you of a power, but the deed of death it comes to most when G_D ward takes the power. The list of all you worship here in thought word and deed, cannot detour the murmur chant, when that G_D decrees. And when it falls, like the same, of rain a tide most gentle or in flame, know it now or know the same a murmur comes indeed.
She heard the murmur of angels, as her cells they flamed, as a witch she heard her accusations, as the song eternal came. A cry a scream for most unseen, an inner humming in self esteemed. For such a time from past before, to time we now can see, the murmur of angels is bonded destiny. And if we hold our heads to sky the killer we won’t see. For flash and sighs and gentleness a rush like love when it is blessed, a way, a light, a song known best, it murmurs to us free, it murmurs to us free.
Eschatological words of time, cannot stop them when they fly, falling spinning, just to dive, to enter worlds they most despise, just to sing a murmured song to you. – 06.18.2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל
For the families of the dead in Charleston, South Carolina tonight.– 06.18.2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל