In the space blue and dark,
twinkled the tiny little stars.
At door he stood,
gazed into infinity,
gazed to figure out,
the figures they portrayed.
Wet were his eyes,
satisfied was his expression,
for he knew he had chosen the wrong train,,
but right was the destination.

There were Angels trapped in hell
Lost their wings in purgatory
                                                         For pride of how mighty they had been
O! how art the mighty fallen
Pains seared through their veins
As fear smiled in their faces
And defeat in their once graceful eyes
                                                       Cries of pain from the voice once sweet
And all they asked was
Redemption that just to man belongs
And to be freed from the torment of hell

Fallen from grace; wounded with broken wings
                                                      And so Little of the perfect being was left