An Angelic Aria
I can hear a voice whispering
A voice unlikely of any known to man
Beautiful and overly enchanting
Where it came from, or perhaps of when?
I cannot deter from them who sings
Unholy yet angelic, sinful yet divine
And in no way can it be perceived as a dream
When its indulgence beyond words to bind
And they appeared, each every one
Bared of clothing, in absolute nudity
Demons and Angels, as beautiful as a dying Sun
Dancing to the aria, desiring the tranquility
In time, they all rejoice in bondage
Each to every one, a chosen was chose
Yet, of the one chosen wasn’t at all acknowledged
When it never was feelings to begin with to enclose
From a whisper were words engiven
From simply a moment, a moment is all there is
Thought less, thought more, were times enliven
When given in periodical times, were imaginative beliefs
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