What if the halos of all the angels
were simply the most elegant of saintly white hats?
What if the wind
was the words of our loved ones returned,
And storms
were the pounding of their foots’ soles on their heavenly ground?
Would you rethink the world
Would you ask for second chances and give them in return?
What if in the mind of some stranger
Night was a colour and morning was a song?
Would you hum the melody,
Or still turn your eyes from the light of day?
Would those shaded white wings have to pull you from your crypt?
Should their ivory flesh tear you from the ground,
Should their untainted fingers become stained by your grief?
What chorus would wait for you I wonder,
for them to teach you to dance and to sing?
As you show them the colours of a night they’d never known.
I wonder if they’d wish
They’d never seen your face.
Venai 