cannot publicly acknowledge the existence of angels,
Such an outrageous act has been outlawed by the council.
So here I am to tell you about these nonexistent beings.
They come from a place called heaven, a serene place
Lying in the clouds that do not fade; they are everlasting.
In heaven they soar free, using their feathery wings,
Which glisten like scheelite in the eternally dawning sun.
Their halos are a gold, 10 carats more pure than the element,
And seemingly glow, even in the most minimal light.

And their souls, as pure as a diatomic gas,
As white as the everlasting magnesium flame.
But most importantly, their souls glow like the firey sun,
Always ready to make us happy, and eternal in existence.

But I once again forget, as a note is passed my way,
That “angels,” in fact, “do not actually exist”
Signed,
The council.
It also says to stop talking about these forms,
Or I will be detained... then executed...
Welp, that’s a sour note to leave on...
Bye.