angels

One more end to another day
I do not stray
I scream silent
The only quiet
i know
redeems itself in tragedy
tragically unaware of feats yet to come
so, populations worship the blood
from the (almost) mythical creation above
but I feel no love
all I've done seems nothing,
fills nothing in my mind-
overflowed-
spacious at a glance, yet consumed
by chance
by conscious
by these bloodied hands.