Hope, The Blackened Sky

Amidst the top of towers
where blooms the razor wire flowers
and gleams within the moonlit hours
and the ethereal dream screams
as I rip apart the graces of Angel wings 
cursing the amythest skies and lies 
I wake up in ashes when and where 
the cosmos of Heaven crashes 
and the waking demon stashes 
the soul to find out why 
I could not cry and my heart 
a million miles away, whispered
visions that was given to me this 
journey and I am free from such 
bliss
and then this I watch Hell burn down 
and around as Seraphim mock and bow 
to endow the blasphemy of the heart 
where nothing shall start for the sake of
the Devil's art, were then my words tart? 
Sweeten this deal and in God's appeal 
I held the sweetest piece that ceased
when I leased the gem as I unleashed
the vent of indigo wrath as I laughed 
never seeing after craftier laughter 
had then it splattered and I mocked in mimic 
fashion, asking the waves of nights gone high
and in that action I bid love goodbye
as a fleeing insect I shant draw nigh 
the tear that should shed for the one
whose dead by my hand and as a man 
I have not demand the heart bled in bed
I would shed and never touch heaven in this life again,
only when i make amend the waking demon 
fed the aching shadows in puritan meadows 
I hate this day light star, take from me this far
wicked thing I held as a muse that I would sing
and sung where all the bells of heaven rung, far flung
to some nether region, only then as pleasing the torn spirit that lingers
where passions unfold in the tales never told and the pain grows never old
as I kill in brazen bold what held and hold, precious these treasures
in another place the pleasures scorn nigh the certainty of doubt, alone, where my soul remains alone, I have cut myself down to bone and remain here
and never have flown, twin mask Icarus O how you must plunge in dying faith
and then in form as I become this wraith, wraith, a wafe for love I killed 
and love's blood marks my hands and then demands the arctitect the days 
we carry on when I have not strenth to carry ob, wrong I watch the sky gray 
in silver lining and I lost her in my rhyming, or so the story's shelter goes.