The martrys are huddled in the woods
Breathing shallow
while their souls gasp and their minds return to the scene
Again and again
Beyond the woods
On the golden savanna of god
They lay
The slain angels
Golden blood pooling around wings of dove white
Eyes that are permanently jeweled.
Wearing robes of truth that are ripped and torn and
Attempted to be dirtied
By monsters of those on a mission.
Nothing will be forgotten
No angel slain
No martr fear in vain
Waves of rescue and purpose and comfort will rise.
They will carry the jeweled and slain angels closer to their center.
They will gather the huddled marters and bring them to haven.
The calm and powerful blue waves of the heart of God will find them.
They will be gathered in the palm of his hand
When they leave the woods
When they leave the savannah
They will sing in the heart of God.
In Gold and Blue and Love and Victory.
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