by Nick Gisburne
She turns her face to Paradise and sings
To penetrate the everlasting light
The cryptic gospels painted on her wings
Reminders of a time beyond her sight
Her truth was torn relentlessly apart
By all the bawdy arrogance of men
The splinters of a once-immortal art
Will never shine with golden dreams again
A wheel within the engine of her god
A cog, a clockwork angel, born to serve
She finds his cold inertia eerie, odd
But summons all her artificial nerve
The master of her universe is dead
She finds another purpose, life, instead
