The Angel of Death

I flew by winter’s night
  And gazed upon shadows,
Shadows I thought were never there
  And never imagined to have existed.
But it was cold with the wind,
  Furious and tempestuous,
   And the rain fell in steady streams of melancholy.
I stood alone, drenched yet determined
  To face this world with eyes closed
  For an open mind can see so much more
  Than the mortal eye open.
My countenance, etched in stone,
  Like a memory that could never be forgotten,
  Nor history that could never be changed.
And with contemplative eyes and innocent gaze
  I look upon thee with inquisition
  And wonder why you are here in my domain.
And wander through the dark dreaming passages
  Of my mind, and have gone astray without knowing
  Where to go nor what to look for,
  But rather, invade my space to take my essence,
  And feel the wrath of one who does not succumb
  Easily to the corrupt powers of oppression.
Immense in stature as well as power
  And they call themselves saviors of the future
  Our future as we know it,
  Only to have it taken in vain.
And as I stand here before you,
  My wings outstretched, my sword is drawn
  And face you with the courage of martyrs,
  I step forth and reclaim my glory
  And live another day to tell about it...