Dreamsong II (or "Der Tod der Engelin")

Effulgent light dawned through the night, the eve the angel came.
She was clothed in white and grasped a silver, moonlit chakram in each hand,
She bore a swirling mane of golden hair that framed her wispish crown.
On wings of golden light, she floated on, high above the land.

The gentle soul could not comprehend the carnage that was wrought,
“It is as if the ground itself cried tears of blood”, she thought.

Drifting slow through cold, night air, not a soul was seen.
But what was this! The shadows moved, one soul endured the strife.
As the angel came down from high, the sad, old doctor turned his head.
“I fear you’re too late” he bitterly said. “Too late to save a life.”

“That will not be” the Angel seethed to he, “for one thing this, I know,
That never too late to spare one his fate, or change back fate’s cruel blow.”

She left him then and went alone to the crumbling church nearby.
There she knelt, and knelt and prayed, her freshly resolved anew,
Her inner light left her then, dimming her ethereal glow,
Her golden wings grew ebon-black, at what that Angel tried to do.

For as that Angel knelt and prayed, time ran a backwards course.
No more tears of blood, idly spent, no more lone survivors, bitterly warped, the angel sacrificed herself
____ to give them a second chance that they might craft a land with no remorse.