He was a reckoning
A gathering of reflected light
Changing the world to every hue
Of the deepest perception of blue
A revival walking
A tragic perfection
With a suitcase full of stale devotion
That kept him in the rain
Seraphims waited to unfurl their wings around him
In his congregation of gloom--
But he would have none of their healing
He was a hierarchy of one
Drifting like a solar eclipse
And defying the heavens
As he brushed the hair from his eyes
for Andy
(you had me with the first chord)
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