Cast out by angels,
Cast out by faith.
Like fallen stars.
Like martyrs we fall,
Blessed is the sufferer.
With these eyes, these hands . . .
We almost grasped paradise.
You lie alabaster
Translucent on broken shells
Of crystal dreams.
Defiled and destroyed.
How can i pray
To this cruel god
Who averts his gaze?
How can i believe
In a god
Who creates puppets and sheep?
Writer(s): Sam E Rosenthal
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