songs of a mortal

Tell me who you are and why are you here.

May we be clear on your true desire.

On whose behalf, on what sort of order.

On what that shine, will you claim this fire?

Your silence won't answer my questions.

So let’s make a trade of real intentions.

For the sight of you would crumble continents.

For my passion would rock all mortal nations.  

Tell me with your sweet whispers my dear.

What sort of tricks do angels play?

What smoke did you bring all this way?

What mirrors could hide what sight could tell,

that angels couldn't always mean well?

What shine could I ever trade your wings for my dear? 

Your presence I always crave   

and your sweet touch,
I never want to set my sight off you
if they could ever come down

and take off with your grace.

Promise me you'll never change.

Promise me that days would come and it will still be my flesh

in your loving embrace.

This mortal could always wish

for you to never be

like tides that sway for the sight of the moon,

but to stay and mend this festering wound.