Will angels weep I wonder,
When heavenly hosts
March unto battle,
Haloes and spears glinting

In gods eternal light,
Demons fleeing before them,
Fearful of the slaughter,
Sinners felled by axe and sword,

Unrighteous blood streaming
Along gurgling crimson rivers,
Cities laid waste and
No prisoners taken,

As the world is covered
In the darkness of shadows
Wrought from their angel wings,
I wonder, will they weep?

She loves being
pinned down,
she loves being submissive,
she loves him
to take control,
not just with her body,
but
with her soul.

He's her King;
knowing
that no matter what,
he would be
her
absolute
everything.

Promising
that no matter what,
they
would make it
through anything.

He loves being in control,
he loves
pushing
her against the wall,
pulling her hair
softly,
yet rough.

Treating her
as the Queen that she is,
he would move
mountains
just to see her
grin.

At the end,
it really never mattered
what she wore.
He could see through
everything,
he could see pass through
skin, nerves, & bones.

He could see her
lovely & naked
soul.

Standing in the rains
Broken skies , Heavens unleashed
Sadness of the soul washes away