Angels Too Late

Angels too late
Angels too slow
They hang their heads in shame
As they rest upon a stone
Tears make the grass grow
In McPherson cemetery
From the angels too mild
Too silence all the demons carried
He pined for their gusto
He pined for their lust
While sipping a glass of whiskey
He waited for their touch
Soft upon his shoulder
Or brushed against his cheek
Pick up your sword and fight
If you refuse to speak
But down in the hollow
The angels didn't rage
Their wings departed woundless
Their energy unscathed

Apathy is more than human
It's a celestial plague
A grimace pierces the brow
Of the angels too late