To reach to the stars,
angel wings flutter about,
storms brew,
goblins dance.

Hair blown by the breeze,
sifting serpentine slithers below,
capturing innocence.

Bones encircle the last mandolin,
and angels surge the heavens,
light chasing dark,
dark chasing light.

Rotting red scales,
and cragged hands grasp,
groping for white flesh,
as it ascends.

Inspired by Milla Jovovitch's album The Divine Comedy

Sept 1998, Reprinted from my own poetry webpage (with permission from me).