Walking on Water

by Nate Wilson

Under the burned-out skies of dark December
Lonely visions passed me by
It was a voice I heard that whispered softly
And carried me away
To a place of fires and fallen angels

And in my final hour all was golden
Burned the buildings to the frozen ground
All that I saw was changed at once before me
And high above the fields
I was filled with glorious delusions

Found today burning in the rafters
As the walls began to fall
Hauled away, a wall of angry faces
'Round the instrument of gods

If I see Saint Lucilia walking on the water
I'll turn and walk away
And it's a fine line between the work of devils and of angels
And in the end it's all the same

After the flames died down I remember
Alone imprisoned by the force of hands
I waited 'til silence came to lay my head down
And in my darkest dreams
I caught sight of the threads of my unmaking