The rapture is night.
As the stars align,
And tell stories of God's oncoming reign,
I decline.
The rapture is night.
The rapture is night,
And I speak with my feet, tapping, creating tremors in the souls of the dead.
Then my foreboding angel flapped her wings.
The devil sat outside my home,
Left his beauty's scent and stone,
Left me raked and raw,
The rapture is night.
When judgement came,
Hera held my hand
And whispered a secret into my ear,
that filled my cheeks with flame.
The rapture is night.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 9:46 AM UTC
The rapture is night.
As the stars align,
And tell stories of God's oncoming reign,
I decline.
The rapture is night.
The rapture is night,
And I speak with my feet, tapping, creating tremors in the souls of the dead.
Then my foreboding angel flapped her wings.
The devil sat outside my home,
Left his beauty's scent and stone,
Left me raked and raw,
The rapture is night.
When judgement came,
Hera held my hand
And whispered a secret into my ear,
that filled my cheeks with flame.
The rapture is night.
I felt like adding a ****** to an end when I wrote this.
