Clockwork Angels

Clockwork angels
Heads of glass
Wings of brass
Hang flightless in the air
Hourglass is turned
They shift in measured stride
Blinking slumber from their workings
Their bodies stuffed with gears
That wound fill their bodies with life
And now they dance

Wings

One wing of paper
The other of feathers
Flap one and you shall rise
Flap the other and you shall burn

Fell

The angel fell

It's wings alight with flame

Plummets earthward

Hear it's cry

In the storm of the night

Howling roaring screeching

Cries 

In the scarlet sea

Afloat in misery

Folly

Wings alight with silver trails
Oh what heights they do prevail
Souring upon the sky
Oh what foolish creatures
Are they
For their heads are but glass
Their wings of paper
Do they think themselves,
Angels of heavens grace?