Mornings death

Morning chased my dreams in from
the sanctuary where i molested the breaths
of angels bleeding over a voice of conversion
taunting the heavens hidden somewhere
between here and there,by mourning mornings
diabolical unabridged convoy my cock become
Weaken ,limb from failure as I need to feel
the pain from the angels agony grinding me
into a volume of windowless rooms,as they dress me in commercial
fabric strengthen with my words boiling to
fine and sweeten sense as I mock the morning
for rehearsing my mourning ,fore the angels
Has waken insight of redemption by and by,there they
have swallowed to a rigorous unheard voice
Of lights flaring as hands ache from the beast  
Staggering among a mourning I offered to the heavens
fore I've stolen a angels last breath beneath
the morning  that my tears crying a beautiful death